Jailbird
by playingfree
Summary: Set during the events of season 2, this story follows the tale of the second eldest archangel; Raguel. After being pulled from the charade of a domestic life, she enters the war to achieve her goal of freedom. [Rated T for mild cursing & violence. Slightly OOC. Slight Julian x OC, but otherwise no pairings. OC story. You are warned!]
1. Prologue

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Prologue.

 **[** Vega, Three Months Earlier. **]**

The smallish room was made up of mostly stone, containing metal shelves stocked with medical supplies, most of which were scattered across the floor by now. There were barely any windows, any windows were locked and stained with dirt, but the room got enough light from the panelled lighting upon the ceiling. Over the loud hum of the city above, you could hear the dull noise of weak fists hitting the stone walls, accompanied by the panicked hisses of the captive citizen.

Blood stained the spot where she hit, a painful throb dancing up and down her arms. She wanted to escape this room, it was making her claustrophobic and she could sense her death coming, but metal chains bound her to the walls and made it unsurprisingly hard to move. The doors behind her creaked open, cold air rushing in with the motion, and she vaguely heard the stern footsteps of her former friend approaching her.

"Why do you insist on trying to escape?" The Archangel's strong voice asked, lilted with a British accent. A pair of strong hands stopped her from damaging herself further, holding her still. "Are you that afraid, sister?"

"I'm not your bloody sister!" She cried stubbornly. "Shut up!"

She was pulled away from the wall, despite her loud protests and kicking, and guided to the centre of the room. Michael turned her to face him, holding her by the shoulders and remaining expressionless. The captive woman trembled under his touch, dark eyes burning with tears and breath coming out in ragged pants. Michael seemed confused as to why she was so upset, tilting his head and examining her with scrutinising eyes.

"You're exactly like Alex." Michael observed, earning an irritated scoff from the woman. Michael continued, "Running away from your problems, denying who you really are."

The woman grew quiet, emotions dancing on the thin line of infuriation and defeat. She wanted to explode into a fit of rage, but she also wanted to accept defeat and embrace the _monster_ inside of her. A thoughtful expression crossed her face, something that grew into a confused one minutes later, accompanied closely by the woman looking around and brushing Michael off as if he were an irritating fly.

Focusing her attention on the bloodied wall, the woman became unsteady on her feet and almost lost her balance. Michael didn't move from his spot, but he seemed pretty pleased with the outcome of his decision. The woman's hands tingled with a familiar burn, the injuries beginning to close with sickly noises.

Slowly, she returned her attention to Michael, seeming to have come to grips with her situation.

"Michael..." She hissed in a foreign tongue, lips curling into a dark frown. "What the bloody hell have you _done_?"

"You need to choose a side, sister, the time for neutrality has ended." Michael responded calmly.

"Balance before recklessness, little brother." She cooed playfully, backing away and turning towards the bloodied wall.

"Gabriel has forgotten balance, he's growing stronger by the minute." Michael argued, following after the older woman. "You must understand this war, you must understand that your power is needed to balance the tide."

"I understand the war." The woman dipped her index finger into the shallow stains, an action that would've unsettled most, but Michael had learnt to leave her to her weirdness. She continued, "On one condition, I'll help."

"What do you want?" Michael questioned curiously, knowing he had to be careful with granting conditions.

"A meeting with the senate." She explained, watching small droplets streak down her finger. "Vivian may have known them, but I want them to know the difference between Vivian and myself."

Michael became quiet for a while, he was most likely thinking of his options. Meanwhile, the woman continued to examine the bloodstains of her beloved Vivian, blinking curiously. She hadn't seen much of the human's blood since the first night of the Extermination War, when it had been painted across her face, contrasting the darkening blood of an eight-ball. The woman cracked her neck to the side, sharpened eyes becoming icier and frown deepening.

"I'll see what I can do." Michael agreed, nodding. "I assume the senate means the Chosen One, too?"

"Personally, I don't care much for him." She admitted with a nonchalant shrug. "It'd be nice to meet him, though."

Michael didn't comment on her disinterest towards Alex, it'd be unnatural for her to show interest towards him, but it _did_ irritate him. Alex was the Chosen One, the child with His message to human and angel kind, and his older sister continued to show disinterest; it was as if she didn't care for going back home. Michael wondered what was going on in that powerful mind of hers.

Sighing, Michael took a small key from his pocket and took her wrists within one hand, unlocking them. The woman stretched her arms immediately, humming cheerily.

"Were those made of empyrean steel?" She questioned, rubbing her wrists and walking past Michael.

"Indeed." Michael confirmed, following after her to the door. "Did you expect me to use normal chains?"

"Hmm, it wouldn't surprise me, little brother." Michael huffed, almost _laughed_ , at her teasing. The pair left the room, walking side by side down the darkened corridor, a comfortable silence lingering between the pair of them.

 _[ ]_

The Stratosphere was unbelievably tall, formerly full of rooms of different uses, and now used as the perch for the Archangel Michael. The darkened sky made the city below sparkle with bright lights, fascinating the auburn haired Archangel that sat upon the ground, legs swinging freely in the open air. Michael sat upon his bed, observing his sister and waiting for Alex to arrive.

"Before the Extermination War, I wanted to bring Vivian here." She admitted shyly, tapping her fingers on the marble floor. "Father ruined everything by leaving, it's somewhat ironic."

"How is it ironic?" Michael questioned, straightening up from his slouched position.

"Some humans have overprotective parents, specifically fathers, who threaten the boy they like." She explained, leaning back to look at Michael. "The humans are the _boy_ and they're being threatened."

"Father wouldn't do that." Michael denied bluntly, confused when his sister started laughing, seeming genuinely amused.

The soft ding of the elevator brought Michael's attention to the blonde behind them, who walked rather cautiously around the circular bed. Alex cleared his throat, tucking his arms behind his back.

"What do you want, Michael? I'm busy." He muttered in greeting, bright eyes focusing on the woman. "Vivian?"

"I'll give you points for trying." The woman replied coolly, waving her hand dismissively. Alex blinked confusedly, looking between Michael and the woman.

"What's she on about, Michael?" Alex questioned hurriedly, taking a few steps forward. "Is she possessed?"

"No, she's not. This is Raguel, she's the original host of this body." Michael explained, which seemed to confuse the blonde even more. "Which makes me wonder just _how_ she got into the city."

Michael got up from the bed and Raguel got to her feet, turning to face the pair. The tension was heavy upon their shoulders, looming in the air, and Alex feared for the survival of them all. Raguel crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly, whilst Michael rested his hands on his hips childishly; Alex wondered if this was what quarrels between angels were like.

"Who knows?" Raguel asked with a deadpan expression. Michael took a few bold steps towards the auburn woman, grinding his teeth together irritably.

"Are you attempting to play dumb? It doesn't suit your character." Michael mocked, relishing in the genuine anger that flashed across her face. "Tell me how you got into Vega."

"I don't _know_." Raguel insisted. "If I had to guess, though, I'd say I got in here as a split personality of Vivian Arthur."

"You're a split personality?" Alex's lips curled into a toothy grin, a breathless snigger slipping out of his mouth. The pair turned to look at the blonde, both wearing different expressions: Michael had an eyebrow lifted at his immaturity, whilst Raguel wore a menacing scowl. Alex cleared his throat, "Sorry."

"Vivian Arthur is the split personality of myself, not the other way around, _human_." Raguel explained, irritated. "It isn't possession."

"How can we be sure?" Michael returned his attention to Raguel. "Once, you were the peacemaker of Heaven and Earth, what are you now?"

"If you believe I'm going to lie to you, Michael, you should keep those thoughts in mind." Raguel lowered her hands to her sides, dark eyes blinking slyly at them. "You remember The Flood, no? Trust gets you injured, trust gets you _killed_."

Michael could feel Alex's gaze burning into the side of his head, curiosity betraying the blonde. Michael's throat felt sickeningly dry, he couldn't deny that he remembered The Flood and the horrible memories created from it, Raguel was the definition of scales; she had been trusted with executions of liars, rapists, murderers, foolish eight-balls and soldiers with an ego bigger than their brains. In short, Raguel could sense a lie, especially when coming from her precious siblings.

Michael remembered hearing the sound of Raguel's powerful wings within the fiery nights. He remembered watching her slaughter innocent children with a gleeful expression, wings outstretched and axes covered in blood. She had called it vengeful justice, but Michael still wondered to this day if it had only been about justice.

"What do you know about The Flood?" Alex asked, the question directed at Raguel. "Were you there?"

Raguel nodded, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I don't wish to talk about it, I was an executioner, that's all you need to know."

Alex opened his mouth to ask more, but Michael interrupted him, "Raguel will help us defeat Gabriel."

"How?" Alex didn't seem impressed with the new information, but it was understandable. Michael was hesitant to reply, not knowing how much information he should reveal to Alex; the boy was impulsive and downright temperamental, it'd be a pain to chase after him if he didn't like what he heard. Raguel had focused her attention on some ornaments kept by Michael, so it seemed like she wasn't going to offer any support in this situation. "Michael, no more secrets! How is she going to help us defeat Gabriel?"

"You'll learn soon enough." Michael said stubbornly, tensing when Alex huffed and stormed off back towards the elevator, muttering angrily. Once the boy was gone, Michael approached Raguel and grabbed her shoulder firmly, pulling her back to the centre of the room. "You can't stay here, go sleep somewhere else."

"Are you attempting to be a teenager, Michael? Is it embarrassing for your older sister to be here?" Raguel teased, but allowed herself to be pushed towards the open window. "You _must_ like her, I'm being kicked out."

"Be quiet." Michael ordered, frowning when his sister clung to the edges of the window. "And get out."

"You _are_ attempting to be a teenager." Raguel observed playfully, turning to face the brunette once more. Humans believed the eyes were the door to one's soul, something that Raguel quite agreed with at the moment; Michael may remain expressionless on the outside, but his eyes were ablaze with embarrassment and childish irritation. Raguel smiled, "I won't be here tomorrow morning, little brother."

"What do you mean? You have a meeting." Michael now seemed confused, tilting his head.

" _You_ have a meeting, _I_ have a letter." Raguel corrected, gesturing towards a letter placed amongst the ornaments. She leaned backwards, the wind lifting up her hair and chilling the back of her body with a nostalgic feeling. "You were always better with them than I was, anyway."

Michael opened his mouth to protest, but he quickly shut it and smiled crookedly at her. "If I remember correctly, Gabriel was always better than the pair of us."

Raguel chuckled, shoulders trembling and smile genuine. She glanced backwards towards the city, "How long do you think it'll take for them to locate an Archangel?"

"Uriel wasn't discovered until twenty minutes after her infiltration."

"Enjoy the next hour of interrogation, little brother." And with these words, Raguel fell from the window.

The slim body of the Archangel was barely visible within the searching lights of Vega, falling at speeds that rivalled any animal to soar the skies. The wind was unbelievably strong underneath her body, burning her eyes momentarily, but Raguel felt no pain towards the familiar surroundings; she had flown at higher speeds than this. She turned within the air, large wings sprouting from her back with a sickly crunch, catching her. Black feathers and silver scales decorated these wings, carrying power that could protect her from bullets and swords alike, but also cut a grown man in half with little effort.

The Archangel fled the city of Vega, eager to meet with her littlest siblings once again.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, this is awkward...**

 **After uploading my story, I decided I wasn't happy with it and wanted to write for the character I've been writing drafts for: Raguel.**

 **This prologue was written to outline the character of Raguel, the story will explain her in much more detail and depth.**

 **Raguel is based off of the archangel, Raguel. I did some _brief_ research on him, because I didn't want to base the entirety of my character off of him. Raguel is referred to as the archangel of justice, fairness, harmony and vengeance.**

 **I can imagine Raguel being quite a difficult character with a wide range of personalities.**

 **Anyway, can I just say that I want to kill Michael because of 02x03? I won't kill him, he's incredibly important to my story, but I'm not saying I won't torture him in one chapter. So beware of that!**

 **After this incredibly long & obnoxious note, I finish with: **

**Reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured!**

 **I bid you farewell. x**


	2. Chapter One

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter One.

 **[** Colorado, Three Months Later. **]**

The stone corridor was chilly, soaked from the inevitable water that seeped through and lit by burning torches. Gabriel sauntered down the ominous corridor, frowning angrily and glaring at the few who dared to approach him. It had been _months_ since Alex had come to him, abandoned by his precious protector, and Gabriel's patience was wearing thin with the boy. He was going to try a different approach.

Once at the end of the corridor, Gabriel came to a stop and opened a wooden door, revealing an unsurprisingly cluttered bedroom. The floor was covered in books, maps and letters of different languages and subjects. The bed was rendered useless by now, hidden under things such as tables and other decorative things, and Gabriel could feel his irritation ebbing away. He was impressed, but also a bit concerned.

He knocked lightly on the door, aware that the inhabiting person of this room would kill—or attempt to—him if he ruined their careful set up. Luckily, Gabriel didn't have to wait long enough to trigger that ferocity, as the person appeared with a book in her hands and a tired expression on her face.

"You look cheery." She dead-panned, balancing across a line of redwood cushions.

Just this once, Gabriel decided to ignore her sarcasm. "I need your help, Raguel."

Raguel opened her mouth, as if she were going to retort with something sarcastic, but quickly decided against it and placed the book down. She easily made her way over to the door, catching herself on the door handle and pulling it shut.

"What were you doing in there?" Gabriel questioned curiously, narrowing his eyes. The pair started to walk side by side, making their way back up the corridor to rejoin Alex in the hall, where Gabriel hoped the kid would show _some_ progress. "I know you don't enjoy socialising with the other angels, but you could _at least_ share a drink with me from time to time."

"We should do that at some point." Raguel replied and Gabriel nodded, pleased. She continued sarcastically, "And then we can talk about girls, paint our nails, debate the meaning of life..."

... _Of course_. Gabriel should have recognised the obvious ruse, she had tricked him multiple times in the past. It disappointed him, Gabriel would admit, because Michael had always been the favourite twin. Rounding a corner, they entered the hall, where Gabriel had been attempting to teach Alex how to read the tattoos for the past three months.

Speaking of Alex, he sat on the stone steps with his head in his hands, seemingly exhausted. Gabriel looked to Raguel, who crossed her arms over her chest and started to approach Alex, ignoring the furious glaring from Noma. If Gabriel remembered correctly, they had bad blood between them, but it seemed to be far more than that at this point.

Alex lifted his head from his hands and he quickly pulled himself from the steps, looking shocked.

"Yeah, hi." Raguel greeted with a vague wave of her hand. "I actually survived three months in this place without you noticing. Shocking, right?"

"Raguel." Alex said hoarsely. His expression became irritated quickly and he directed a glare towards both Archangels. "You're working with Gabriel?"

"Oh, I wish." Gabriel laughed, savouring the tension that grew in Raguel's shoulders. "My sister is devoted to balance, Alex, she's sided with Michael to even out the odds of survival for mankind."

"Why are you allowing her to live?" Noma questioned icily, tilting her head. "Isn't it dangerous to have an enemy close to the Chosen One, Archangel Gabriel?"

"I'm not an _enemy_ , as you put it." Raguel denied, ascending the steps to approach the other angel. "Sure, I detest the idea of allowing Gabriel to get above me in power, but I've only harmed him once and I _refuse_ to do so again."

Noma expressed a look of sympathy, backing down from the brewing argument between them. Raguel nodded once, returning her focus to Alex and Gabriel, both of whom were feeling similar emotions of confusion. Instead of descending the steps, Raguel took a seat on the top one and rested her head in her hands, not making an attempt to... _help_.

"Oh, right." She muttered, as if realising something important. "I'm not going to help, I have other plans."

"You're kidding." Gabriel was distraught when Raguel shrugged, confirming her _other plans_. "Sister! You can't..."

"I want father to return, too!" Raguel interrupted loudly, face contorting with worry. "I want to bring him home, I want to hear his voice and jokes, I want to have my family back..." She brought her hands to her face, shoulders heaving and hyperventilation beginning to control her breathing. Gabriel crossed the room quickly, his own sadness growing with each passing breath of Raguel.

Crouching down, he held her by the shoulders and hushed her panic. "I _will_ bring father back, Raguel." He reassured vehemently. "You'll be able to have your family, all of us will."

"How?" Raguel questioned, voice muffled by her hands. "Father taught us to love, not torture."

It was ironic, almost _hilarious_ , that such an angel would say that. The Executioner, Raguel. She had killed, maimed and tortured lives of both angelic and human kind; she was one of the cruellest angels that God had ever created and she was... _contradicting_ herself? Gabriel had to resist the urge to laugh.

"Don't worry, dear sister." Gabriel mumbled, pulling her hands from her face. "Where do you intend to go?"

Raguel hummed, shrugging. Gabriel took that as a sign that she wasn't going to tell him, but would kill any scouts he sent after her. Sighing, Gabriel cupped her face in his hands and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, hoping to linger in the moment for a little longer. Raguel granted these wishes with a hug, something they hadn't shared for centuries.

"My sweet little brother..." She sighed, fingers tangling in his hair. Gabriel remained still, scared that if he were to move, Raguel would end her moment of affection for him. "We'll never be as close as you were with Michael, but I hope we meet again as siblings and not as strangers."

"I hope so, too." He agreed with a nod of his head. "Stay safe on your travels, Raguel."

And the moment ended. Raguel released Gabriel from the warm hug, smiling a small smile and then getting to her feet. She disappeared to her room for a brief couple of minutes, before returning with her weapons and that plum coloured scarf she seemed to have grown so attached to. Gabriel allowed her to leave, turning away as she ascended the steps and continued to grow farther and farther away.

He focused his attention on Alex, glaring sternly. If he had listened carefully, Gabriel would have heard the breathless chuckles of his manipulative older sister...and people wondered where _he_ got it from.

 _[ ]_

A truck drove along the road, holding five passengers within the interior, whilst four sat upon the bed of the truck. Those who sat indoors were human, ranging from the elderly to children, and those who sat outdoors were of the angelic race; their ranks ranged from eight-balls to superior angels. The evening sky was clear, the air barely tolerable and it was difficult to remain awake.

Raguel stood upon the side of the road, watching the truck approach with her hands tucked behind her back. She sighed, it had truly been a long time since she met with her own spies and scouts. When she had been with Gabriel, it had been far too risky to gain information, and Vega had only been a temporary meeting place; Michael would have caught on at some point.

However, Raguel was alone now. She could rebuild her army and her brothers wouldn't be able to do a thing.

As the truck slowed, the window opened and the driver handed her a notepad. She flipped the notepad open, reading the scruffy handwriting carefully, eyes narrowing victoriously when she found what she was looking for. Raguel looked up, meeting the eager eyes of the human driver, a wry smile forming on her lips.

"Send word to those in the shadows." Raguel ordered, looking over each of their faces. "Tell them of The Red Sea."

"The Red Sea?" The female eight-ball hissed, black eyes sparkling with malicious intent. "Of course, Archangel."

Backing up a few steps, Raguel gestured for them to continue driving, shifting her weight and looking in the direction she wanted to head. She tucked the notepad into her pocket, tugging her scarf to cover her nose and pulling her hood over her head. The humans gave her a final farewell, the angels nodded their goodbyes and Raguel outstretched her wings to take flight.

According to the notepad, her littlest brother had come across a rather... _unique_ town. In capital letters it had stated that eight-balls would be set ablaze if they got too close to the town, but in brackets it said that Michael had crossed the border without any hassle. These people believed they were being protected by God, but something horrible gnawed within her stomach; she remembered what happened to the last person who believed that...

 _[ ]_

 **[** Flashback, Egypt. **]**

The Nile was a beautiful river, one that glittered in the boiling sun and provided for nearby towns and travellers. Raguel sat upon a sandy bank, cleaning her armour and weapons, and Gabriel sat next to her weaving a headband of reeds. After such a depressing night, they were both grateful for the relaxing scenery and moment, they'd treasure it forever.

The water was cool against her warm skin, the sand made it just a few shades off of crystal clear, but the eternal view of gorgeous water made up for that small imperfection. Pulling her breastplate from the water, she shook a few stray droplets from the armour and placed it on the cloth next to her, allowing the sun to begin drying it for a while.

Behind them, Raguel could hear Michael reluctantly digging graves for the few people they actually pitied. There had been a mother with two children, who had looked at the trio as if they had been her own blood. She had told them that it was okay, that she _forgave_ them for what they were doing, and that she believed this was all for a reason. The Archangels had fought over the fate of the family, Raguel and Gabriel tried to persuade Michael to stop, but...

Nothing was that simple in war.

The woman had believed God would protect her children in the afterlife, she had hummed them a lullaby before their death. Raguel had killed the mother, Michael had killed the children, Gabriel had been the one to break up the heated argument between them. She just couldn't believe she had grown attached to a human within the last moments of their life, that she had snapped at Michael and told him he was a monster for following such cruel orders.

Naturally, he had retorted with the same insults, which had upset Raguel more. When they had been travelling to find a place to relax, Raguel realised that she wasn't angry with Michael, but more with herself. _Who_ killed on the orders of a hypocrite? Raguel had spent the evening pondering the question.

"Go apologise to him." Gabriel said, voice low with concentration. "He isn't going to apologise to you."

Raguel sighed, pushing her hair from her face irritably. "Of course he isn't, Michael has too much pride to do that."

And yet, she still found herself getting to her feet and nervously rounding the rocks, trying to ignore the unsettled sand that held bodies. The smell of death was potent upon her sensitive nose, Michael stood digging another grave for a child, and it took a lot of willpower to cross the sand without deciding a lecture from Gabriel was nicer than... _this_.

Once she got behind Michael, Raguel shyly closed her arms around his torso, pressing her forehead against his back. Michael jumped at the initial contact, but he easily relaxed into the hug and stopped digging for a minute or so. No words were exchanged between them, they simply stood in the quiet, forgiving each other.

* * *

 **A/N: Whoo! Chapters!**

 **I guess this is sort of outlining her relationship with Gabriel, but I promise that there'll be more action in the next few chapters. I had so, so, so, _SO_ much trouble writing the flashback; I kept changing it every damn time and I couldn't get it right, so I hope you enjoyed the little snippet of The Flood.**

 **Thank you to those who've read so far, I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured. x**


	3. Chapter Two

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Two.

The morning air was cool against her skin, the scent of a burning fire was strong and the sight of an untouched civilisation was unsettling. The town was something you would have found in the old era, a place without huge walls or weapons meant to kill the angelic species, it was just a quaint little town with rustic features. Raguel stood on the borderline of the town, listening to the cheers of children and the laughter of adults, unsure of how to proceed.

Her heart ached with a need to see her little brother, but an interior force kept her from summoning him. She sighed, scratching at the back of her neck, turning her attention towards the sky. Oh, how she wished she could turn to God for advice, but it seemed there was no care and support for her _there_.

After a couple minutes of debating, Raguel started to make her way down the sandy path that led into the town, sparing minor glances towards the farmers and cattle that were in the fields. She shook her head, returning her attention to the town square, eyes darkening with an infuriated scowl. Why did such a naive town get special treatment? It was pathetic.

As she neared the town, she was confronted by a smallish group of humans, all of whom carried guns. Raguel came to a reluctant halt, meeting the stern eyes of an irritated man in plaid.

"Hold it, lady." He said, taking a few bold steps forward. "What's your name?"

Raguel was slow to respond, something that _could_ be blamed on her growing irritation, but she was still debating if it was really about that. She shifted her weight, "Vivian."

"You sure 'bout that?" The man questioned suspiciously. Raguel narrowed her eyes, snidely retorting with:

"I didn't realise caution was considered suspicious activity." She unstrapped her axe from her belt, continuing her mockery of the man. " _This_ could be considered suspicious activity, see? There's a bloody difference."

The man didn't seem pleased with the mocking response, as Raguel found herself at gunpoint. Before the fight could escalate into a couple of dead citizens, a short woman in a tank top and jeans interrupted them.

"Hey, hey!" She shouted, panicked. She stepped between them, holding her hands out to keep the fight apart. "Stop it!"

Surprisingly, the hotheaded man was the first to lower his weapon, which prompted Raguel to do the same. The new woman looked between the pair, before settling her attention on Raguel, seeming uncertain of her intentions. However, she smiled moments later and invited Raguel into their town, apologising for the rough treatment dished out by _Wes_.

Raguel dismissed the situation as nothing.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Two Days Later. **]**

Mallory was a town full of mysterious things, Raguel had noted over the past two days. She hadn't figured out the secret behind the fire, but she still doubted it was anything to do with her father, perhaps another force was protecting this town. However, that brought the question of _who_ was powerful enough to keep eight-balls out of a large area? Raguel didn't enjoy pondering these questions.

And yet, she still stood within the church of the town, hoping to find an answer for this insanity. The church was full of pictures and flickering candles, something that should have comforted her, but it made the church feel empty and cold. Taking a shaky breath, Raguel turned on her heel and exited the building, descending the wooden steps quickly and leaving the building behind her.

She couldn't be in that building, house or _whatever_ people enjoyed referring to it as. It was _grating_ to know that she couldn't lay one finger on this town, she wouldn't risk her life to give into a childish irritation, because she also knew Michael would _obliterate_ her if he got his hands on her. Michael had no qualms about killing his own kind, after all.

Anyway, Raguel crossed the square and entered the small library, giving a short nod to the librarian. The librarian was a young man with an animated personality, Raguel enjoyed listening to his quirky wishes and dreams, but today she was focused on finding out the history of this town. With the help of the librarian, Raguel soon found herself sat upon an old sofa, reading each word very carefully.

The book explained something about there being a Prophet, declaring to be the vessel of God, and there was a lot of other nonsense that Raguel would have sniggered at in private quarters. There wasn't much information that could help Raguel locate this person, the person claiming to be the creator of the universe itself, and Raguel was just about ready to give up when the wooden door creaked open.

Out of the corner of her eye, Raguel recognised the familiar twin swords of her brother, but his presence seemed... _different_. It wasn't the indifferent air Raguel had grown accustomed to over the decades, it was something changeable and toxic. Also, she had deduced that he wasn't here for the books.

Clearing her throat, Raguel got to her feet and approached the librarian, nudging him. He looked up from the stamps he was counting, smiling warmly.

"Could you keep this safe for me?" She questioned, voice quiet with unease. "I just remembered something I need to do." The man nodded and took the book from her hands, pushing it under the counter and returning his attention to his stamps. Sighing, Raguel took a few steps back and turned to fully face Michael, tucking her hands behind her back.

The soft thud of the librarian's upper body hitting his counter was loud within the quiet space.

She smiled widely, "Hello, little brother."

"What did you do?" Michael hissed, stepping away from the door and glaring furiously at Raguel. "Why are you here, Raguel?"

"I knocked him out." Raguel replied, rolling her eyes. "He won't remember much, just that I returned a book. Humans are sweet like that, they block traumatic experiences and adjust it, it makes my methods so much easier."

Displeased, Michael neared Raguel quickly, capturing her with one hand on her shoulder. He snarled, "Why are you _here_?"

"Why are _you_ here?" Raguel retorted, voice lowering with confusion. "Forgive me, Michael, but I don't see you as much of a town person."

"I'd say the same for you, Raguel." Michael pushed the older angel backwards ever so slightly, earning an annoyed hiss from her. "You were always one for skyscrapers and train tracks."

As her smile curved into a frown, her eyes became fierce with infuriation. She had put those memories behind her long ago, but Michael had reopened a closed wound with his distrusting personality. Closing her hands into tight fists, she forced herself to keep her mouth shut, because she couldn't risk letting her emotions ruin her ulterior motives.

"Don't worry, Michael..." Her voice became even lower, until it was barely above a whisper. "I have standards for the people I kill."

"Your _standards_ seem to change a lot." Michael didn't seem convinced, which brought a snigger from her. He repeated himself, "Why are you here?"

Sighing, she tugged Michael's hand from her shoulder and stepped around him, but she didn't leave him without an answer. She muttered, "I'm here because father isn't."

And with these words that could mean anything, Raguel left the library.

 _[ ]_

A couple of years ago, Raguel had lived within New Orleans and had created brilliant memories there. She had lived under the name of Leah Hall, she had lived within a quaint apartment and she had lived with an old friend. When she had lived in New Orleans, she had been able to forget her _real_ family, and her old friend had helped her do so.

New Orleans was the city she had met Vivian Arthur in, but also the one she had watched her die in...

The Extermination War had replaced her memories of a city of life with a city of fire and bones. She vaguely remembered returning to the city the day after it was attacked, but everything was a bit hazy after that.

She walked through the darkened town of Mallory, returning to the makeshift home Laurel had offered her. She shared with a family of five, but Raguel was grateful for the smallish bedroom and food they offered her, even if their newborn baby left her staring at the ceiling for three hours a night.

She could feel Michael's stern eyes burning into the side of her head. He was far more irritated than he had been earlier, probably because he couldn't work out what Raguel had meant. Even if Michael refused to believe he was like Gabriel, Raguel could confirm that they had more in common than either of them would like to admit; it was somewhat adorable.

Chuckling quietly, Raguel crossed the square and pushed the familiar wooden door open, entering the dimly lit living room. She closed the door behind her, bolting it and making her way to the bedroom that sat at the very top of the stairs. Her bedroom was one of the two that was at the front of the house, giving her the perfect view of the thing she wanted to inspect: the bonfire.

Sometimes, she had sat upon the windowsill with a sketchpad and notepad in her lap, both sketching and writing notes on the thing. She had come up with three theories, two of which she would willingly share with others, but the third theory was something that made her become tense and fearful of the fire.

The first one was that the fire was built on myth or something, if the eight-balls believed it would burn them if they got too close, it _would_ burn them if they got too close. Two Archangels had entered the town without paying much notice to the fire, which backed her theory up quite a bit.

The second one was that the fire fed off of something within the town, much like a _God_ would do. In order for this town to remain protected, sacrifices needed to be made; but Raguel hadn't come up with an idea on what the sacrifices _could_ be.

The third one...the third one was... _very possible_. Since the Extermination War, angels had fallen to earth and discovered how to hide within plain sight; as humans. Eight-balls had always been the easiest to locate, because of their stupidity and prominent features, but higher angels were a completely different story.

Some higher angels, such as the Powers, had features that kept them distinguished between their lesser brethren. However, Archangels had only been distinguished by their narcissism and close connection with each other, they could easily blend in with humans and _that_ was how so many people had died within The Flood.

 _"Nobody suspects an enemy that hides within plain sight."_

That was something Raguel had learnt from her older brother, the fool who had wanted equality over favouritism, and Raguel had learnt that he was far more intelligent than man and angelic kind gave him credit for. He had been the Archangel to fight on par with Michael, only to lose fifteen days later, and then he had been placed into a cage all alone.

It was stupid to assume he had remained locked away, the balance of power had disappeared as soon as father had left. Honestly, Raguel would be surprised if the idiot had nothing to do with this, because it just had his _style_ written all over it. He had always been one for promising protection and then killing his toys once he had grown tired.

Raguel was grateful he had been locked up before The Flood, because she could guarantee mankind _would_ be extinct if he hadn't been.

Her third theory was her older brother, the man that nobody spoke of, the man labelled as the origin of sin: Lucifer.

* * *

 **A/N: DUN DUN DUN.**

 **Sorry for the longish wait. I've had some trouble writing this chapter, I don't know if I'm pleased with it, but I guess we'll find out.**

 **As for the Lucifer thing, this was a theory I discussed with my mother, because she thinks that Mallory isn't protected by God. We discussed the theory and it got me thinking.**

 **I know a lot of people in the fandom think Lucifer isn't going to come into the picture, because Gabriel is kinda the evil one in this show, but this story _does_ stray quite a bit from the show.**

 **The next few chapters are probably going to be about Mallory, so I hope you're prepared for feels. c:**

 **Reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured. x**


	4. Chapter Three

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Three.

 **[** A Few Miles from New Delphi... **]**

Gabriel stood upon the dusty ground, hands tucked behind his back and eyes overlooking the miles of land before him. It was just like Alex to run to the place where Michael and no other Archangel was willing to venture, he was always causing more trouble than what he was worth. Gabriel didn't see what Michael saw in him, honestly.

"When Vega sees their queen has fallen, they'll lose hope." Gabriel muttered in monotone, gaze settling upon the distant stronghold of New Delphi. "They'll make it _so_ much easier to wipe clean this filthy slate."

The familiar noise of wings brought his attention to the landing angel behind him, a small smirk curling onto his lips. The angel turned to face Gabriel, folding his wings back and taking on an awaiting stance.

"Ah..." Gabriel hummed excitedly, greeting the angel like an old friend. "Could _you_ get into Vega?" The angel nodded. "Then go, you deserve a holiday!" Gabriel took a few steps back, smirk beginning to inch into a smile. "And you can bring back a souvenir, the head of Claire Riesen."

The angel didn't say another word, instead he spread his wings and took off to the skies, most likely eager to bring that little brat's head to him. Gabriel returned his attention to New Delphi, smile quickly returning to a frown; he absolutely hated the damn city.

"My army will be here by sundown." He stated, taking a deep breath. "If New Delphi won't give us Alex, we'll liberate him." The other angel took a place to his side, sighing audibly and glowering towards some poor plant. Gabriel turned to face the man, lifting his eyebrows and questioning, "Is there a problem?"

The angel was quick to respond, "You want to attack _two_ cities at once? The last time we did that, Michael was at our side."

"We don't need him." Gabriel hissed, voice becoming shakier with both irritation and longing. Quickly, he calmed himself and looked back towards the sky, "I've learnt a great deal since then...and when I'm done, father will see who's always been his most loyal son..."

 _[ ]_

 **[** Mallory, Alabama. **]**

The bonfire crackled with a strange rhythm, towering above the town with the appearance of a burning tower of destruction. Anything that it deemed evil would be welcomed with a painful and fiery death, which soothed the locals and irritated the newcomers. The two Archangels stood within the shadow of the flame, discussing the subject that irritated one and soothed the other; Alex Lannon.

"He isn't made of glass, idiot." Raguel replied to the previous worries, looking about the town. It was quiet in the mornings, which made it that much easier to have these conversations without drawing the attention of too many people. "He can take care of himself."

Michael sighed, "That's what I'm worried about. Do you know where he is now?"

"Nope." Raguel denied with a flippant shrug of her shoulders. "Can't say that I care, either."

His response wasn't immediate, but he did manage to change the subject slightly. He questioned, "Who's life do you value, sister?"

"My own." Raguel stated, nodding. "However, I'd bring hell to those who dared to harm you or Gabriel."

"If anyone harmed Alex, I'd be beyond repairing, sister." Michael admitted, a small smile curving his lips when Raguel pushed him to the side, hissing what sounded like profanities.

"Y-You—!" She took a few steps back, allowing Michael to regain his balance. "Fine, I _might_ help him! It'd only be if there was no other option, though, you bastard."

And despite the slightly negative response, Michael still appreciated the hint of a promise, accepting it as a ceasefire. Raguel crossed her arms over her chest, looking away with a slight smile. A comfortable silence fell between them, both losing themselves in their respective thoughts, and the crackling fire seemed to become much louder for the pair of them.

Raguel remained focused on the theories she had worked on, bringing discomfort to the shadow she stood in. With a lump in her throat, Raguel was forced to keep her fearful thoughts to herself, keeping her expression neutral and hoping to appear as the embarrassed older sister who wanted no part in the heroic lifestyle of her little brother.

Michael was bothered by a lot of small thoughts, all merging together to create an obnoxious web of agitated confusion. He was worried for Alex, but frightened thoughts kept him from returning to the boy; he would definitely hurt Alex if they saw each other again. He was also worried for his twin, his sisters and his family in general. Right now, Raguel's heart raced like she was sprinting from her darkest fear, and a disturbing feeling haunted him for both Gabriel and Uriel.

As if realising her fear wasn't easily masked, Raguel spoke up, "Uh, I just remembered something I needed to do."

Michael tilted his head confusedly, "You've only been in town for a couple of days. What could you _possibly_ have to do?"

"I could use the fire to my advantage, burn this town out of existence..." She trailed off to an irritated look from Michael, bringing a roguish smile to her lips. "Don't worry, though, I've always preferred sleeping through nonsense I care very little for."

"When will you end your games, Raguel?" Michael complained with a relieved sigh.

Raguel shrugged, "Perhaps when one of us decides to end this foolish war." Although, she knew that playing games throughout a war would bring her a victory worth experiencing. Nodding a farewell to her brother, Raguel left to find a perch she would sit within for the rest of the day, contemplating different subjects and relaxing aimlessly.

She had learnt through too many wars that relaxation brought on the most dangerous of tactics.

 _[ ]_

The bark of the branch was rough beneath her back, digging through the thin t-shirt she wore, it was definitely an uncomfortable feeling. Exhaling, Raguel focused her attention on the leaf canopy that shaded her from the sweltering sun, admiring the arrange of colours that it took on. Greens, reds, oranges, browns...it was pretty.

She remembered when she first laid eyes upon both colours and leaves, she had grown so fascinated.

Lucifer had grown fond of her childish fascination with the artwork of their father, eagerly listening to the tales she told and joining her on her explorations. Thinking back, Raguel realised she had spent a lot of time with him, despite her more recent emotions of fear and disgust. She had been the least forgiving of their father and Michael.

However, she had learnt that immortality came with the cost of a family that screwed you over, and that hating them was beyond pointless.

Shaking her head, Raguel refocused her attention on the world around her, deciding not to darken her thoughts any more. She would have plenty of time to do that, but right now she just wanted to sleep without worrying. So, she closed her eyes and started to relax, humming contentedly.

And thus, her thoughts came to focus on the leader of this miserable excuse of a town, Laurel. The woman that her little brother seemed to be quite interested in, the woman who would most likely end up dead due to Raguel's inevitable motives. Many would find her ability to cast the lives of others disgusting, but Raguel could only shrug flippantly and chalk it up to her being a killer with narcissistic tendencies.

Getting back to the subject of Laurel, Raguel had found herself quite enjoying the determined human. She didn't have a specific reason, though. Laurel was determined to protect her people, believing God would guide them in the correct direction, and Raguel would admit to finding her unwavering belief... _admirable_.

She had met only two humans who had managed to impress her, the rest seemed to agitate her. These two humans went by the name of Noah and Moses, one of whom died protecting his people and the other lasted against all angels by holing up in a fortress built to withstand a hurricane.

Noah had been a man of courage and belief, listening to the guidance of God and keeping humans safe. He had survived due to keeping hope and faith as his main weapons, not letting a single angel to pass through the walls of his stronghold. He had used empyrean steel to his advantage, grinding it into dust and bringing enough pain to the angels to make even the strongest scream in indescribable pain.

Raguel balled one hand into a tight fist. She remembered being outsmarted by the old man once, _ambushed_ by the few humans who dared to stand against the angelic kind. The humans had left and Raguel had been left paralysed on the ground, creating an experience she never wanted to relive.

Moses had been someone with a lot of wisdom and strategy. Raguel had watched over him from afar, leaving her brothers behind for quite some time to watch the human, admiring his stupidity to declare war on the Pharaoh. He had fought for the freedom of slaves and those who were going to be killed, going as far as to kill the Pharaoh's only son to persuade the man.

Once he had been set free with his people, Raguel had been graced with the presence of her father, ordering her to help Moses in this fight for freedom. Anyone who knew the story of Moses would think it was only the Pharaoh and his men who died to the Red Sea in that story. Well, Raguel would allow them to believe what they wanted, she had no interest in the subject any longer.

And luckily for her, the soft whistle of wings drifted through the air, hitting her senses with a desperate need to be met. Raguel was slow to react to the familiar noise, as it had been a while since she had heard such a thing, but she eventually shifted so she was straddling the branch. She listened to the beating of the wings, carefully picking out the direction and then proceeding to make her way to it.

 _[ ]_

 **[** New Delphi. **]**

The citizens of New Delphi were shaken up from the previous visit from the Archangel Gabriel. Curfew had been called early, so that they could single out any remaining spies or traitors, and Julian had just about had it with the boy claiming to want an alliance. He was the reason Gabriel had attacked in the first place, because he ran away from the Archangel like a fool.

"I can't form an alliance with you." Julian refused, gesturing vaguely to Alex. His people were scared and he didn't want to endanger them any more by starting a full on _war_ with Gabriel.

Alex shifted his weight, eyes hardening with a venomous glare. He asked, "Are you kidding me? You didn't just _see_ what happened?"

Of course he knew the kid would retaliate, he seemed like the temperamental sort. Julian swallowed his words reluctantly, turning to face Alex with a piercing stare. He had seen and heard what happened, but that didn't make him any less reluctant to form an alliance with the blonde.

"He's coming back." Alex continued furiously, leaning forwards a little. "And next time it'll be with an army. Why are you doing this?"

Julian was quick to respond, "'Cause you are _lying_ to me."

"I..." Alex tried to defend himself, but Julian easily interrupted him.

"Gabriel came into _my_ city, he came here looking for _you_." Julian hissed, shaking his head. He had heard enough of this. "Because _you_ escaped, _you_ were his prisoner. Is it that simple?"

Alex opened his mouth, seeming lost for options.

Julian repeated himself, "Once again, is it that simple?"

Behind Alex, Noma tilted her head back in exasperation, seeming to want to interrupt the situation. She seemed to know something about the lad, perhaps something they both knew and weren't willing to share, but she quickly averted her gaze back to Alex.

Alex lifted his gaze to look at Julian, seeming more confident in himself now. He shook his head, "No." Julian was bewildered to say the least. "It's not." Alex was quick to unzip his jacket and pull it open, scowling like a child without his favourite toy. Bunching his t-shirt up into his hands, he pulled it up to reveal a strange—yet _oddly_ charming—set of tattoos. Alex huffed, "He wants these."

Julian stared at the tattoos, trying to decide whether or not to be shocked or relieved.

The human boy—Pete?—whispered to Noma, "Nice ink. Is that a bad thing?"

The girl's expression turned sour as she turned to Pete, hissing at him to shut up. Julian examined the tattoos carefully, trying to find a chink to show this was all a hoax; a desperate man was willing to do a lot more than people imagined, honestly. And despite his disbelief for the situation, Julian still returned his gaze to meet Alex's, huffing in a brief defeat.

 _If_ this was true, Julian would consider an alliance with the boy, because he would honestly relish in killing the blasted Archangels with something believed to be their own. It'd be a _fantastic_ sight.

However, he would positively torture the boy in something worse than death if he happened to be... _lying_ to Julian. And trust him, _nobody_ survived the torture Julian came up with.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm going to positively die when I get to the point of 02x06. I already have plans for that chapter and I started crying because I'm going to have to write so much pain and suffering, it's actually ridiculous.**

 **Anyhow, sorry for the slightly jumpy chapter in P.O.V's, I had a lot to write with new ideas constantly popping into my head. I also feel like I'm one of the only people who appreciates Julian's sense of humour, despite what the fucker did to my precious Noma. _I'm still not over that_.**

 **I seriously love Julian as a whole, he's just so adorable and his accent is the cutest. I have no doubt that I'll enjoy writing in his P.O.V! c:**

 **Thank you to _MusketeerAdventure_ for reviewing, I'm glad you're enjoying my story and I'd just like to say that your username is freaking awesome. **

**Reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured. x**


	5. Chapter Four

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Four.

 **[** Outside of Mallory, Alabama. **]**

The Power stood upon the sandy hill, armoured wings threshing and strangely coloured eyes squinting up to the sun. He had been waiting for the day that the Archangel Raguel would reconnect her army, an organization much more powerful than many realised. The Power was confident that Raguel would be the one to bring their father back, but he had always appreciated the efforts of the other Archangels.

Sighing, he was relieved when the sun was momentarily hidden behind the familiar silhouette of another winged angel. The Power folded his wings back, briefly fuzzy gaze becoming clearer as the Archangel landed upon the slope with a light thud. She easily made her way onto equal ground, curling her wings into her back and looking around the eight-ball littered landscape.

Raguel muttered, "You summon me to the nicest of places." She returned her attention to the Power, smiling. "I assume you bring news, Mordax?"

"More like whispers." Mordax corrected. "Whispers of New Delphi and Uriel."

A soft sigh rolled from Raguel's tongue, but she waved her hand for him to continue. He knew very little on her thoughts of both subjects, except for the small detail that she had spent quite some time in New Delphi, but she had joined Vega afterwards for unknown reasons. She seemed to have a certain amount of respect for Uriel, not that her respect meant anything for her emotions.

He decided to start with New Delphi. "One of our eight-balls located an amphora in the possession of Julian." He stated, somewhat nervously.

"What?" Raguel asked irritably, eyes widening a couple of inches. "How the bloody hell did he get an _amphora_?!" Mordax shook his head, as he was as confused as Raguel. Nobody had seen an amphora in decades, God had scattered them so that they couldn't be used for evil, and now they had to worry about _Julian_ having one. "Which one is it?"

Mordax replied, "Darkness."

Raguel was quiet for a while, possibly thinking of a way to deal with this situation. Mordax knew she wouldn't declare war on Julian, that much he could read from her facial expression, as it seemed she cared for Julian to a certain extent. However, she also wouldn't allow the amphora to be left in his hands, because _nobody_ deserved such a weapon; it would do so much worse than any nuclear bomb could.

"My brothers can't learn of this information." Raguel decided, shaking her head. "What of Uriel?"

"According to those who had been in Colorado, Claire Riesen ordered an air strike on Gabriel." Mordax explained, voice becoming low with both sadness and worry. "Gabriel survived the hit." He was aware that Raguel had gathered a lot of information whilst with Gabriel, so it'd be a miracle if she hadn't found her imprisoned sister.

She was surprisingly calm about the news, her voice the only thing that seemed to take a hit from it. She ordered rather quietly, "Take two of your best soldiers and go to Vega."

"What would you have us do?" Mordax questioned, although he had a pretty good idea.

"I want Claire's body hanging from their precious wall and I'll allow you to choose the deaths for her government." She explained, lips curling into a wicked smile. "Make it violent, though."

Mordax nodded in understanding, outstretching his wings and leaving the auburn. He trusted her to not do anything rash, she hadn't taken such a habit from her family, and he also knew she would summon him with both information and a plan.

 _[ ]_

The walk back into town was quiet for Raguel, both her thoughts and emotions scattered. She pulled her coat around her, folding her arms over her chest and trying to focus on one thought. Unfortunately, _Julian_ happened to be that one thought, the one subject she wanted to leave for tomorrow.

Before Vega, New Delphi had been her home, allowing her to get a better view on the Extermination War. She had been one of the many to keep out of it, only listening to talk and isolating herself in a bedroom, reading _incredibly_ old books and sketching the few good memories she had of her family. For the most part, she had relied heavily on the _kind_ heart of Julian to keep her fed and hydrated, and that had been how they had started talking.

Raguel had often been sat at her desk, an old-fashioned bankers lamp keeping her workspace bright, whilst Julian had started sitting on her bed or hovering near her. He had often made comments, trying to spark her interest in some time outside of her room, but Raguel had promptly told him to shut up; he had claimed to find her aggressiveness _charming_ , or something. Long story short, they had spent quite a lot of time together and had become... _close_.

Julian was quite a playful individual with both curious and sarcastic streaks. He was clever, Raguel had noted that immediately, and had quite a dark sense of humour. His temper rivalled that of Michael and Gabriel, he was almost as creative as Uriel, and he had portrayed a good amount of stamina that mirrored her own.

Once, Raguel had seen him as a good person with a couple of demons, but she only saw the demons nowadays. She didn't want to know what he was going to do with the amphora, although she was still curious as to how he had found it; when their father had hidden them, he had made sure not even his Archangels had been able to find them. So, Julian could have possibly already had it...

Shaking her head, Raguel blinked her eyes and looked about, pleased to find herself just about to pass the bonfire. She came to a halt, prompting Wes to stop shadowing her and _finally_ confront her, which was a relief for the auburn; she would rather think about her former friend in peace.

The plaid clad man came to a halt next to her, glowering as if she had killed his family. He hissed, "Pretty long walk for such a petite girl."

Raguel turned to face Wes, sighing loudly at the agitating presence of the man. "What can I do for you, Wes?" She questioned, "Here to question my motives?"

"Don't get smart with me." Wes replied, probably hoping to sound menacing, but Raguel was far from afraid. "This town ain't your home, got it?"

"Got it." Raguel confirmed with a nod of her head. She smiled, "Just remember something, okay?"

And this time, Wes sighed at the elongated time spent within each other's presence. Irritably, he grumbled, "What's that?"

Raguel reached out, closing a hand around his wrist and pulling him close. A wicked little smile curved onto her lips, "I could get us out of sight and snap your neck before anyone could realise you were gone, thus eliminating your threat to both my sanity and my plans." She explained quickly and quietly, tilting her head to look up into the man's widened eyes. She unlocked her hand from his wrist, taking a few steps back, savouring the fright that registered across his face. "Have a nice day."

She walked away from the situation, tucking her hair behind her ear and mentally praising herself. It had been a while since she had acted in such a manner, due to her ability to slip between a human and angel mindset, and she could admit that she had missed the fear that crossed their faces. Though, it was much more memorable on the faces of eight-balls who had forgotten their place.

Ah, _that_ brought back some interesting memories. She could vividly remember slaughtering a crowd of eight-balls, who had approached her with mixed opinions, but the overall opinion had been: _she was a simple woman, they could do anything to her_. Oh, how she had cherished the horrified realisation, laughing throughout the deaths they had been subjected to.

Ironically enough, they had been part of New Delphi, not that Julian had ever figured out how they had died...

 _[ ]_

 **[** Somewhere Close to New Delphi... **]**

Old music drifted throughout the mountains, playing from an oldish car parked within the middle of nowhere. An angel sat within the leather seats, legs kicked up onto the dash and hand closed around a bottle of whiskey, his eyes squinting towards the dirt covered horizon. He lifted the almost empty bottle to his lips, too lost in his thoughts to hear Gabriel approaching his car from behind.

Gabriel curled a hand around the angel's hat, tugging it from his head. "Enjoying yourself, hmm?" He turned to face the ebony haired man, leaning backwards against his car. "Little music? Little bourbon?"

"Whiskey." The angel corrected smugly, glaring at the other angel. Gabriel smiled at him, passing his hat between his hands aimlessly, thoughts of torture dancing through his head.

"I was waiting at the gates of New Delphi for an army that never arrived." Gabriel explained, as if he were having a casual chat with his friend. He continued with his attention focused on the low hills, "An army my herald was ordered to call." Turning on his heel, he brought his weight down upon the door, questioning the messenger. "Now tell me, why was that?"

The angel gulped, looking between the whiskey, the seats and Gabriel. He said, "'Cause I never summoned them. You failed with that human, you couldn't unlock his markings. The aerie was bombed, _good_ soldiers died!" He turned his head away, looking at the metal build of the windscreen, "And for what? Father hasn't come back, maybe he never will." He chuckled a low, slightly mad, chuckle.

Gabriel's mind raced with many thoughts and emotions, his heart punched against his ribcage and his hand closed around the angel's clothed chest. He lifted the angel up from the car, only to send him into the ground minutes later, ignoring the protesting scream that escaped his mouth. He retorted, "He will! And I'll be the one to bring him home."

The angel struggled to get onto his hands and knees, scampering like a frightened puppy. Gabriel brought himself down to the angel's level, shaking his head disappointedly.

"But, if you doubt me, you won't be around to see it." He threatened, voice becoming menacingly lower.

Sadly, the kid didn't know when to quit, as he pulled himself onto his knees with a snarky remark. "Like Uriel? We found a body, Gabriel, she was killed in the bombing."

Distraught by the news, Gabriel took a step or two back from the angel, straightening up. He stared off towards the land in front of him, shifting his weight and trying to find another answer, because _perhaps_ the angel was lying to him. It wouldn't be the first time. But, even when he opened his mouth to retort such a cruel accusation, no words came out and he quickly closed his mouth. Instead, he exhaled and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, turning to glower at the angel.

Gabriel focused on crowding the man's mind, bringing rapid breaths from the angel's mouth as his eyes rolled back into his skull, leaving nothing but white behind. Lifting one arm through the air, Gabriel pulled the angel to his feet and guided him over to the hood of his car, turning with the action. Once there, the angel lightly held onto the hood and reluctantly stared into the windscreen, fear pulsing through his body at the face reflecting back at him.

Gabriel corrected with a lift of his eyebrows, "Bourbon _is_ whiskey."

The angel had a moment to react, though it quickly ended when he was slammed down into the metal with unsurprising force. This action repeated once, twice, three and many more times, until Gabriel waved his hand and looked towards the angel expectantly.

" _I_ am still alive!" Gabriel reminded angrily, looking down upon the angel, who pulled himself together and got to his feet.

"I'll...I'll gather the army." He muttered, backing away from the Archangel and unfolding his wings, taking off towards the skies. Gabriel watched him go, walking until he was at the front of the car, but his attention quickly fell upon the hills once again.

He had assumed Uriel would have been able to endure the collapse, but even the vessel of an Archangel couldn't survive that, he guessed.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Mallory, Alabama. **]**

The bells rang loudly throughout the town, signalling the return of a runaway woman. A crowd of both men and women ran across the square, calling to the woman worriedly, and Raguel peered over Michael's shoulder curiously. The poor girl was covered in both blood and dirt, her hair knotted and her eyes wide; she looked like something of a character from a book. Wes sat on the ground with her, asking her if she was all right and what happened, whilst Laurel tried to get the crowd to back off.

"Who the bloody hell is she?" Raguel muttered to her brother, although she doubted he could hear her over his own racing heart. Michael made his way to the front of the crowd with Laurel, looking at the dark skinned woman with a strange sense of recognition, which the woman mirrored with her own fear.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they knew each other, Raguel assumed they had met when Michael had abandoned Vega in a temper tantrum. Raguel was curious, though, taking the space beside Laurel to look at her brother; he seemed nervous. Unfortunately, the woman seemed to be undergoing the process of shock, as she started to hum and become less conscious by the second.

Wes was quick to pull her into his arms, getting to his feet and rushing through the parting crowd. He called, "Let's get her inside, she's going into shock. Get the doc!"

The crowd started to depart for different parts of the town, leaving both Michael and Raguel standing in front of the bonfire. Raguel was torn between questioning— _interrogating_ —Michael, following the crowd or clearing her head. Michael seemed to have already made up his mind, as he paid her little attention and chased after the crowd, leaving Raguel to make her own decision.

Follow the crowd or clear her head? She chose the latter, obviously. First, she looked for any people to witness her secret, and once she had decided she was safe; she revealed her black wings with the familiar noise of cracking bones. She rolled her shoulders at the added weight, before she left the town and it's _drama_ behind; she needed to plan her reunion with Julian, anyway.

* * *

 **A/N: See, this is why you don't kill Uriel, because you end up with two very angry angels sending their soldiers after you.**

 **If you couldn't tell already, I slightly** **— _okay, it's like my OTP at the moment_** **—ship Julian & Raguel. Uh, it's very complicated how that pairing came to my mind, but I promise there'll be no pairings in this story; perhaps a little flirting or hinting, but nothing serious. I have another one-shot for that, hehe.**

 **Lemme know what you think of Julian & Raguel, though. Even though I haven't had them interact much in this story. I'm just curious, because I think they could be an adorable couple of deranged humour.**

 **[Sobbing from author b/c she re-watched the episodes with Harper, b/c she wanted to get the scene on point].**

 **Also, I noticed that I haven't really been keeping the story chronological with the timeline, which is probably why everything seems so jumpy and ew.**

 **Funny story, actually, I spent the last four hours last night trying to figure out what the _fuck_ Gabriel was saying to his herald with the "little music? little bourbon?" thing. I didn't know how to spell bourbon and it didn't help that he was mimicking a Southern accent, so I wasted like four hours of my life and then realised I was writing a scene for the wrong chapter.**

 **I swear to hell, I would have killed Gabriel there and then omg.**

 **Either way, I'm not going to rewrite the story and put it in chronological order, because I feel like I'd really fuck with my confidence if I did that. So, I'm just going to mess with the order a little, which is why the bourbon scene is in this chapter and not the next.**

 **Also, I'm sorry if anything repeated itself in the story (like a split repeated itself etc), my laptop decided to crash my browser as I was about to save this chapter & I'm SO glad I got into the habit of copying and pasting my work, because I'd be _SO_ mad if I had lost this chapter omg. So yeah, that's the reason if anything repeated.**

 **I hope you enjoyed reading this ridiculously long note, because I sure as hell didn't enjoy writing it.**

 **Reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured. x**


	6. Chapter Five

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Five.

 **[** Vega, Nevada. **]**

X Ambassadors played from the speakers, keeping boredom away as Gates played around with the device in front of him. The rare buzz of the bell hissed over the music, catching his attention and prompting him to look up at the many screens, some of which had text on and the others had camera footage. He shook some dirt from his hands, looking at the slender figure of Claire Riesen approach his doors, looking up to the camera expectantly.

He picked up a black remote, glancing down to the buttons briefly and pointing it, pressing a button to open the doors. He placed the remote back down and returned to his device, continuing to fiddle with it in hopes of making it do... _something_. Once the door swung open and shut again, Claire walked through the shadows until she was standing across from Gates, expression that of a sulking princess.

"Wow." She muttered in astonishment, making her way past Gates as she looked around. "I didn't think it was possible, Gates, but you have managed to turn this place from charming hobble to...just hobble."

Gates replied sarcastically, "Well, hello to you too, Claire Riesen." He looked up, tool and device in hand. "And all this is the price of genius; a little method, a little madness...y'know?" Claire huffed, taking one of his many baseballs into her hand. "To what do I owe this honour?"

Claire turned to face him, passing the ball back and forth between her hands. "I have a favour to ask."

"Oh, straight to the point, just like your papa." Gates muttered, irritation outlining his tone. Claire took a deep breath, rolling her eyes and glaring at Gates. He continued, "Don't take it personally, but I'm kinda busy, so..." He returned his attention to the now smoking device.

There was a little bit of shuffling in the background, but no footsteps. Gates didn't pay her much mind, he knew she'd eventually leave and return to her fancy entrées and snazzily decorated buildings.

"How busy?" The familiar sound of liquid splashing around in a bottle brought his attention to the brunette. She held an expensive looking bottle of alcohol in her hand, eyes twinkling with victory. Gates squinted at her, unsure whether to believe the bribe or not, and Claire waved it in front of her with a lift of her eyebrows.

He picked up the remote and turned, switching the music off and throwing the remote back onto the worktop. He got to his feet, approaching the girl with a slight limp to his step, still suspicious. He grumbled, "Where'd you find that?"

Claire shrugged, "My dad never came empty handed."

"You are a quick study." Gates commented, taking the bottle and looking over the labels. "Last time the general brought you here, I don't even think you were old enough for a drink. It's been... _years_ , right?" He twisted the lid off with a satisfying pop, taking in the smell of the drink. It was... _all right_.

"Yeah, well, things change." Claire replied with another shrug. "Gates, I need you to find someone for me; Zoey Holloway. She's a V-1 who wants to overthrow my government."

"What? Did she say that in a strongly worded letter?" Gates questioned mockingly, starting to make his way back to his workspace.

"No, she tried to kill me." Claire corrected, following after him. He came to a halt, turning to look at her with a million thoughts running through his head; he wasn't sure whether he believed her or not. "She escaped prison and my soldiers can't track her, but I bet you can."

Gates laughed, looking about the room at the ridiculous assumption. He walked away, "Claire, I'd _love_ to help you, but I'm an engineer; I power the city, I build you a bomb here and there, but I don't play detective." He placed the bottle of alcohol on his counter, shaking his head.

"Come _on_ , Gates!" Claire raised her voice a little, sounding like the spoilt girl she had been raised as. She approached Gates, "You and my dad built this city, you know it better than anyone; you could find her."

Having retook his seat, Gates started pulling black cables from behind the counter, glancing between his task and the brunette. He tried to ignore her, but she kept begging and claiming it was important. He snapped, "Yes it is, but I can't—not right now." He reached over to grab his stylus. "I'm sorry."

There was a moment of silence. Buzzing filled the quiet space, Claire was clearly irritated now; Gates didn't blame her, he wasn't exactly the social butterfly of the friendship circle. He'd get irritated with himself, too.

"Gates, I'm not asking." Claire pressed her hands onto the workspace, eyes glaring holes into his head.

Gates could only laugh, shaking his head as he looked up to her. He questioned, "I thought you said this was a favour?"

"And now it's an order." Claire replied simply. She glanced to the equipment, "Fiddle with that thing later."

"This bad boy is a processing core from generator, that powers three _floors_ in Agri-Tower B." Gates placed a hand upon the machine protectively. "All stocks of corn went kaboom at three in the morning. So, if I don't fix this, we can kiss those crops goodbye."

"There are rumours of a rebellion, Gates." Claire reminded. "You know what those grow up into? Civil wars."

Gates sighed, wondering if Claire was capable of accepting _no_ for an answer. He ranted at her, comparing the Extermination War to baseball with surprising accuracy. Claire stared at him patiently, allowing him to tell her how it was, and only replying when he had returned his focus to his machine once again. _Typical_.

"Yeah, well..." Her voice was low with a croak, her facial expression sinking slowly. "Maybe we didn't know him so well."

Finally, Gates caved and agreed to help her. She thanked him with a smile, passing him his baseball as she left.

 _[ ]_

 **[** The Middle of Nowhere. **]**

The garage was abandoned, just like every other building set within the middle of nowhere. Empty vehicles were parked outside, most looted down to the metal frame and dirtied with blood or dirt. There was a town a little further up the road, one crowded with the possessed, and Raguel had concluded that she would find _peace_ if she went there.

She sat upon a stone platform with her back to the metal machines, legs outstretched and eyes closed. She was angry—hell, she was _infuriated_. From past reference, Raguel could say that her family was totally insane, and it had only gotten worse during this stupid war. Abandonment had brought them closer, but also pushed them apart.

Gabriel and Michael had waged war against each other, but refused to kill each other. Uriel had started to work behind the scenes, feigning sweet innocence with a poisonous betrayal. Raphael had disappeared to another corner of the planet, Lucifer was a wild card and Raguel had become isolated within a bubble of anger and vengeance. It was ridiculous, right?

Raguel opened her eyes, letting go of a breath she hadn't realised she was holding. She could head back to Mallory or pass some time in the middle of nowhere. Pulling her legs up to her chest, Raguel rested her head upon her knees, hoping to calm her agitated nerves; she doubted Michael had even realised she was gone.

She couldn't understand his obsession with the town. He didn't seem to question the dubious behaviour of it; she had found the body of an eight-ball outside, burnt to a crisp. Raguel had connected the dots pretty quickly, though she had decided confronting him would be the equivalent of talking to a brick wall.

Sighing, she got to her feet and dusted herself down, returning to the small shop that sat behind her. She pushed the glass door open, flinching at the shrill ring of the bell, and approached the counter with a confident bounce to her step. The counter was dusty and littered with cigarette boxes, money and old chocolate bars; Raguel was more focused on the display of modern to old-fashioned sunglasses.

...What? An angel was allowed a fashion sense, too. Besides, if any of these lower angels were from New Delphi, sunglasses would keep them from describing her appearance to Julian properly; not that she planned to allow any of them escape, but thinking ahead was always a strength for her.

Pulling a pair of black rimmed glasses from the display, she peeled the sticker and unravelled the tag, unfolding them quickly. She put them on at a similar pace, pulling her hair from under the accessory and adjusting them. She left the station, unfurling her wings and taking to the skies once again.

 _[ ]_

The fading sunlight caught upon the filthy town, outlining the unkempt homes and lingering possessed. She had always questioned the personalities of an eight-ball, wondering why they needed to live like those they had possessed. Perhaps she would discuss her curiosities with Julian, as the angel inside of him would know, hopefully.

Raguel stood upon the sloping rooftop of a wooden home, looking over towards a group of children; they were playing with marbles. An elderly couple sat on the bench behind them, smiling with teeth that resembled those of a shark, and a ginger girl wandered around the square with a cart of flowers and herbs.

Mercy crossed her mind, but so did the thought of Claire ordering that attack. She only vaguely remembered Claire, they had talked on brief occasions, but Raguel could say that she disliked the woman. Claire was a child in comparison to the warlords she fought against, making rash decisions that rivalled those of her little brothers; she had made too many enemies to get out of this alive.

If she had spared the aerie, Raguel would have considered siding with her to stop this war, but she didn't want to side with the losing side. Julian had always been an option to side with, but she doubted the Dyad would allow a higher angel to ally with him, and an alliance between Gabriel and herself would be chaotic. At the end of the day, Raguel would probably have a higher chance at allying herself with Evelyn.

Hopping down from the rooftop, Raguel started to approach the laughing children and the elders, tugging her hood over her head as she did so. Her lips curled into a sardonic smile and she rolled her shoulders, excitement beginning to bubble in her stomach.

Stopping behind one of the children, Raguel placed one hand beneath his jaw and the other curled around his head. As she started to twist his head, the children became still in their game of marbles, listening to the small little clicks of bones protesting beneath the unwelcome treatment.

The pause in fun prompted Raguel to snap his neck, removing her hands from his body and watching him slump to the ground.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Mallory, Alabama. **]**

The town was quiet with worry for Harper. Mothers and children had grouped up to pray for her, whilst fathers and others focused their attention elsewhere. Inside of a brightly lit house was Michael, Laurel, Wes and the dark skinned woman, Harper. Michael was anxious about the return of the runaway, arms crossed over his chest and eyes watching the pair carefully.

He questioned, "Do you know her well?"

"Harper and I grew up together, we're like sisters." Laurel explained, caressing Harper's forehead lovingly. She sounded as if she were going to cry, as if she were struggling with an interior battle. Laurel straightened up and turned to look at Michael, "Couple a days back, she ran away."

"Why would anyone want to run away?" Michael asked, confused.

Laurel became quiet for a moment, perhaps choosing the right words to explain. She gave a strained smile, "The Prophet left us rules. Told us he wanted people of Mallory to live life with an open heart." She shrugged her shoulders and continued, "We make mistakes, same as anyone, sure...but when we do; we confess. No secrets, no sins." Tears glazed her dark eyes, "As town leader, it's my job to collect the confessions of each and every person. Harper was reluctant to reveal her secrets. I was pressuring her, she ran away."

"And now that she's returned?"

"That means she's ready to confess and we can all move on." Laurel nodded.

"The real question is...how do _you_ know Harper?" Wes hissed, voice outlined with venomous irritation. He looked to Michael with an annoying sense of self-importance, which made it ridiculously hard for Michael to keep his own temper curbed.

"I don't." He denied curtly.

Wes pushed himself away from the staircase, huffing a laugh. "Really? You sure 'bout that? 'Cause...she seems to know you."

Not wanting to let this situation escalate any higher, Michael decided this was his cue to leave. He stepped away from the wall, "I should go."

Unfortunately, it wasn't that simple, as Wes' next taunt sent an icy chill down his spine. An accusation that couldn't be ignored slipped from the human's mouth, prompting Michael to look at him, disgust and anger seeping into his otherwise calm mind. Quietly, he denied the accusation, earning himself another laugh; how dare he?

The situation became heated quickly. Laurel shouted at them to stop, whilst Wes shouted at him, struggling uselessly within his hold.

Fortunately for Wes, Michael had unfinished business here, which would be made a lot harder if Laurel forced him out of the town. So, he let the man go and turned to Laurel, who seemed to be unsure of the situation; he simply gave her the handgun previously aimed at him and walked out.

* * *

 **A/N: 02x10, I have been calling this since season one came out, dammit.**

 **Sorry for the late update! I haven't had much inspiration to write anything other than drafts. Plus, school has started up recently and I have done nothing but sleep in my free time, but the weekend has finally arrived!**

 **I'm seriously dreading writing 02x10 for many reasons. Gates is one of them. I'm super curious as to what they're going to do with Lucifer, plus The Prophet is seriously bugging my curiosity omg.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured.**


	7. Chapter Six

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Six.

 **[** Flashback, Bethlehem. **]**

The city streets were forsaken tonight, the shining moon hidden by thick grey clouds. Mary sat upon the straw littered floor, arms folded protectively around the wailing child she had birthed only a couple of minutes ago. Two archangels stood outside of the wooden barn, watching the darkened skies for the silhouette of their littlest brother, Michael.

"Father has given us this child." Uriel murmured, turning to her sister. "Michael needn't go this far with the slaughter."

"Save your breath, sister." Raguel replied with a distasteful shake of her head. "Take care of Mary, I'll persuade Michael."

Uriel seemed to be considering an argument, looking through the ajar door to the small family. They looked so happy. A beautiful baby boy had been gifted to them, a boy they would love unconditionally; even though he was adorned with the foreign markings of God. "I understand." Uriel agreed, a smile curving her lips. "I'll keep them safe, sister."

The pair shared a farewell hug. Uriel held onto the elder with worry, squeezing her cloaked form tightly. Raguel pecked a loving kiss upon the blonde's forehead, hoping to reassure the younger. Difficulty came with breaking the hug, yet authority over an unwanted war encouraged them to do so. Raguel ordered, "Summon Gabriel, he'll want to hear of this."

And so, she unfurled her wings and left the blonde archangel to care for the small family. Jumping from the hill-like ground was riveting for Raguel, she could finally feel the pressure of falling against her abdomen; finally _hear_ the screech of the wind in her ears. It was an amazing feeling.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Present Time. **]**

In the setting sun, the town was hardly recognisable beneath the gore placed upon it. Adults were skewered upon fences, lamp posts and branches. Porches had children strung up by their necks, their lifeless corpses swinging in the angry wind. The elderly were positioned to sit on benches around the town, sitting together as if they were enjoying another day.

Raguel wandered through the darkening square, muttering agitated reassurance. Her hands were closed tightly around the hem of her t-shirt, knuckles white and wrists bloodied; she could still feel the empyrean steel digging into the tender skin. Bad memories lingered in her mind, but she didn't regret her decision to kill this town; they would have festered eventually.

Moving on, Raguel was unsure of her next move. She could return to Mallory, she could move onto New Delphi or she could desert her position in this war altogether. It all reminded her of a _life changing_ option one would find in a video game; save the hero or the less important one? Kill your lover or your trusty sidekick? And then it would end with her being screwed anyway, so it really didn't matter what she chose.

Mallory didn't have anything of importance in it—there was the fire, but that interest was soon abandoned. Plus, Michael hadn't been a major character in her life since the beginning of the Extermination War; he would probably be _grateful_ if she didn't return.

New Delphi held two things of significance to her, Julian and the Amphora of Darkness. She had lived in the city for too many years, she knew of the risks it held for higher angels; there were far too many to consider the thought of being allowed to leave without a fight. However, the amphora and a potential alliance were locked behind those walls.

Abandoning her post was the only option that really stood out to her. During the Extermination War, Raguel had remained balanced and neutral, ignoring the temptations to end the pathetic defiance of both her brothers. She had created a fake persona within herself to live in Vega, but Michael had figured her out three months ago; curiosity really _did_ kill the cat. So, if she wanted to finally be rid of the hindrance of war, she would have to abandon everything she had worked _so_ hard for.

Tension lingered around her body; she couldn't decide.

"I don't mean to pry, but you seem _awfully_ quiet." A voice laced with cunning curiosity crooned from behind her. "What's wrong, dear?"

Raguel came to a halt and turned, "Ementior." She dead-panned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Hello, Raguel." Ementior greeted, smiling wickedly at the elder. "Need some help?"

"Uh, no." Raguel replied angrily, recalling the last time she had accepted the help of Ementior.

Ementior pursed her lips, obviously displeased with the refusal. "You're thinking of heading to New Delphi, no? That place is a death trap, you'll need help." She said, clasping her hands together. "I want to help you."

 _Déjà vu_. An agitated sigh slipped from Raguel's lips, as she had heard that line from Ementior on several occasions. Ementior was a clever higher angel, one of the few that didn't need a _special_ title to be considered fearful, and Raguel didn't trust her at all. The redhead was notorious for betrayals, luring others into bloodbaths without mercy; she would lower the chances of survival in New Delphi by a _considerable_ amount.

She didn't respond to the declaration, it was a pointless offer. She felt sick just _thinking_ of the outcomes that could happen with Ementior at her side.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Continued Flashback. **]**

Footsteps echoed through the darkened streets, precise and balanced. Those in their homes were fearful of the outcome, shying away from the windows and praying for the survival of their city. A shadowed figure walked by the curtained windows, irritated with the tantrum prone child she was about to confront.

Tonight, a little boy had been born with a pure heart, and it was decided that he would be the healer of mankind with the guidance of God. Michael, of course, was displeased that their father was doting upon another human; he had allied himself with bloodthirsty humans to _slaughter_ the child. Initially, he had pleaded with his family to fight with him, but no one had wanted to kill an innocent babe.

An arrow whizzed past her head, clipping the tip of her left ear and wedging itself into an abandoned wagon. She was quick to respond, holding two fingers together and gesturing towards the rooftops with them, smiling at the familiar thuds of bodies.

Next, she was confronted by those adorned in red cloaks and golden armour, all of whom chortled at the smaller figure that was herself. They thought she was an easy target, because she was both a woman and smaller than them; she had always detested that about their inferiors.

"Go back." The tallest one ordered, leering at her.

"Get out of my way." She countered in monotone, eyes narrowing.

She slowed her pace, displeased when she found herself at a crossroads. It wouldn't be easy to find Michael in this maze, even with the annoying connection that kept their family together, and she highly doubted the paranoid bastard would keep the streets clean of his soldiers.

When the men didn't move, she quickened her pace and snapped three necks in a heartbeat, leaving only a short and pudgy man to answer her. He quaked within the presence of herself, holding an iron sword with shaky hands; it was unsurprisingly easy to snatch the sword from his hands and point it to his throat.

"I have a question for you, one that I'd prefer to have answered immediately, do you understand?" She asked, earning a hasty nod from the man. "Excellent." She lowered the sword a little, smiling. "Where's Michael?"

"M-Michael?" The man echoed, as if the name was foreign to him. "I...I don't know."

She dug the sword into his throat, a cold shiver travelling down her spine at the sickly squelch of blood. She allowed the body to fall with the sword, looking down upon the lifeless corpse; he had been telling the truth, he was _innocent_. She had done him a favour. Innocent lives turned into the darkest of dark sins, her family was the prime example of that.

In her mind, she engraved another line to mark the death of an innocent person and moved on.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Present Time. **]**

The water was lukewarm upon her hand, spilling through her fingers and washing the grime from between them. Ementior stood on the porch above the old-fashioned pump, long hair curtaining her face and eyes watching the archangel carefully; it was a risk to remain in her presence for too long, but she was determined to form an alliance with the other.

"You sent Mordax after Claire Riesen?" Ementior questioned, tilting her head. "I didn't know you were interested in a war with the humans."

Raguel denied, "I'm not, but they killed Uriel and hurt Michael. An eye for an eye, or whatever."

"You plan to kill Claire, thus hurting her people in both survival and mental stability? Amazing." Ementior murmured, smiling. "What will you do with Alex?"

"Alex..." Raguel echoed, stopping the water flow for a minute to ponder the name. She didn't particularly enjoy talking about the kid, because he was useless in the eyes of herself and many others; it would be easier to kill him. There was always the agitating guilt trip Michael would lead her on, though, and he would kill her if she wasn't careful; perhaps she would kill the other one—Noma? "If something were to happen to Michael, I'd return him to Vega and keep him safe."

"Oh?" Ementior wasn't convinced by the act of a _loving_ sister. Ementior had known Raguel for decades and she had _never_ seen the archangel show mercy on someone she found useless. She had killed millions due to the resistant nature of humanity and the predictable minds of celestial beings; Ementior admired Raguel for her manipulative and cruel ways. They had once been great friends in the darker days, sharing techniques over wine and laughing at those around them. Time had a way of destroying things, no?

"Although, this trivia doesn't explain one thing..." Raguel shifted her attention to the axes upon her belt, resting her weight upon her left leg. "Why are you still bothering me with your presence, Ementior?" She questioned, tugging one axe free and placing the right blade to Ementior's throat. The redhead became still at the physical action, smile curving into a frown. "I'd prefer you to answer in a couple of seconds, blood isn't easy to clean from this coat."

Ementior attempted to reach for her own weapon, but found her hand immobilised by a second weapon balanced over her wrist. Of course. Raguel was an archangel, she could _hear_ every thought in her head, _feel_ every movement as if it were her own; it was almost impossible to win against an archangel. "I've already told you, Raguel."

"Are you lying to me, Ementior?" Raguel cooed, pushing the axe to her throat a little more, drawing some darkened blood.

"I am not." Ementior denied with a flinch at the empyrean steel; even if it was small, she had learnt that small cuts were more painful than big ones. However, Raguel had a way of making even the largest cuts _really_ hurt, which prompted Ementior to swallow her pride and elaborate on her change of heart. "Excluding the archangels, Julian is one of _the_ most powerful players in this war." She continued, "Out of your family, who do you think he's most willing to ally with? You. You have history with him, I won't pry on that, but he trusts you and I would _love_ it if you lowered your weapons and listened to me."

Raguel was quiet for a minute or two, processing the rant given by the redhead. She lowered the weapons slowly, "What are you suggesting?"

Ementior smiled victoriously, descending from the porch and approaching her old friend. "I'll explain on the way, dear."

* * *

 **A/N: Ementior is my life atm, she's such a manipulative bitch omg. Brownie points for those who figure out the translation of both Ementior and Mordax! c:**

 **I know this was a short-ish chapter without much mention of the brothers, but I wanted to focus this chapter on the previous relationship of Uriel & Raguel. The flashback will continue into the next couple of chapters, maybe, so I hope you're ready for blood & gore!**

 **Julian is going to be in the next chapter! You'll see a lot of him for the next few chapters, I have big plans for his character. Raguel will have a lot of interactions with him, Ementior will probably have a couple of scenes with him...I'm already picturing the slap scene. Whoops.**

 **What're your thoughts on Ementior, out of curiosity? She won't be around for long, I assure you, but does anyone else like her or do they hate her? I love hearing your opinions.**

 **Now, in reply to a guest reviewer who was kind enough to drop a review:**

 **Thank you for taking the time to review your opinion, I really appreciate it! However, I don't plan on keeping Gates alive because I prefer to keep to the canon story line. Due to the situation Gates was in, I don't really see a logical way to keep him alive without changing the plot completely, plus he would become a dead weight sort of character by the end of it.**

 **As for your view on the couples, I totally agree with you! I view the previous relationship of Claire & Alex as a somewhat "childhood crush" thing, although my feelings have changed due to the latest episode with the Darkness & stuff. Again, thank you for taking the time to review, but I don't think I'll be keeping him alive. **

**Thank you to those who have reviewed, I really appreciate your support and interest in my story!**

 **Feel free to drop a review, but don't feel pressured. x**


	8. Chapter Seven

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Seven.

 **[** A Few Miles from New Delphi. **]**

The sandy ground crunched beneath their boots, the evening air chilling their skin and stones had made their way into their shoes; it was an uncomfortable feeling, but they didn't stop. They were maybe three hours from New Delphi, where they would meet either death or peace; they were hoping for the latter, but only Julian could dictate their fates.

The surrounding forest was tough to walk through, brambles tangled themselves around their ankles and the trees were connected tightly together. The area was unsurprisingly dark without the shining moon, which prompted them to use their hands to try and guide themselves through the confusing environment. Their fingers stung with quickly healing cuts and bruises, whilst their feet ached with the need to rest; they refused to stop, though.

It felt unnatural walking so far, when they could have been there in minutes if they had flown. However, Ementior had insisted on walking, because it was too _dangerous_ to fly there; Raguel was sure the redhead just wanted to see her do something challenging.

Raguel felt uneasy within this darkness, left without a visual of her surroundings; she knew New Delphi was surrounded by lower angels and humans, who clearly had equipment that could help them in situations like this. She didn't exactly like the idea of encountering them, due to the strict rule that kept her from using her wings.

Aching with the need to see and hear Julian, Raguel did her best to kick the obstacles from her path, insults and profanities bustling around in her head. During her time away from New Delphi, she had wished to see the Dyad everyday, even without proper control over her vessel; it had always been an unexplainable feeling.

"What're you thinking about?" Ementior asked, curious.

"Which bottle of alcohol I should steal from Julian." Raguel replied in monotone, huffing as she pulled her foot from another bush.

"He'd let you do that?" It sounded risky to Ementior. They hadn't seen each other in twenty-something years, Ementior doubted Raguel would be able to act freely.

"We don't use the L-word." Raguel joked, sparing a glance to the redhead. "Plus, I enjoy banter before I threaten the well-being of someone's city—manners and such."

 _[ ]_

 **[** Flashback, Bethlehem. **]**

Descending the cobblestone steps, Raguel found herself looking at another empty square, littered with evidence that her idiot brother had been here. She exhaled, crossing to the centre of the square with long strides, untying a small pouch from her belt; she didn't want to spend her evening searching the entirety of Bethlehem, it would be easier to play unfair.

Spinning on her heel, Raguel beamed at the seemingly empty space and unravelled the string of the pouch, turning her gaze to the interior of it. A breathless giggle shook her shoulders, free hand covering her closing eyes; the contents within this pouch were something a human novelist may describe as... _life flashing before one's eyes._

It was a dark technique used to prompt liars on their deathbed, but a few adjustments had enabled many other doorways of opportunity. Due to her balanced nature, God had entrusted her with it; he claimed her siblings would suffocate in the darkness, turn into beasts that rivalled the unexplainable nature of Lucifer.

He had declared that the offensive technique would only be used within the boundaries of Heaven—she had been waiting for a reason to disobey that rule, if she was honest. A door had been opened for her to rebel, one that led to a greyish area that she would never have thought to find herself in; she was taking a risk by stepping through it, a _huge_ risk.

As the skies started to rumble with uncertain thunder, her head started to burn with the voice of God. He whispered to her, questioning her decision to use the dust; she could sense the authority in his voice, but fatherly worry was also there. _"Raguel, please stop."_ He begged. _"You will never come back from this."_

Raguel gnawed on her bottom lip, shaking her head. "Father, I've grown tired of this war; I want to come home."

 _"Listen to me, Raguel! Rebellion is not the answer to ending this war."_ He insisted, voice growing louder with each syllable.

Oh, how naive. Rebellion, revolution, insurgence; it all meant the same thing. At the end of the day, no one needed a good reason to shed blood; did one need a good reason to fight? Chaos would spiral upwards if an archangel broke free from their restraints, it would change the entirety of nature if an archangel destroyed their gifted instincts.

Religion, freedom, grudges, the truth, love...they were all core elements of rebellion...

Emptying the dust from the pouch and tossing the container over her shoulder. She murmured, "I'm not doing anything wrong." Giggling airily, she tilted her head backwards to peek through her fingers.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Present Time. **]**

Sighing, she pressed her back to the smooth surface of the boulder, shooting a glare into the canopy of leaves above her. She could confirm that getting to New Delphi was much more difficult than she remembered, this was the third patrol they had hidden from, and it unnerved Raguel.

According to Ementior, Gabriel had entered New Delphi looking for Alex Lannon; she wouldn't be surprised if it were true, her littlest brothers were obsessed with the child. However, Gabriel's rash decision had affected her own rash decision, and she was going to gut him for it.

As the patrol passed by, Raguel peered around the edge of the stone and watched their backs disappear into the vegetation, slipping from her hiding spot carefully. Creeping across the open space, she made sure to keep her feet light and her speed quick; she proceeded to crouch behind a log once on the other side, before gesturing to Ementior to join her.

Once the other angel had hopped over the log, they continued along their route to New Delphi, walking in absolute silence. Raguel could sense her memories drifting back to Julian and she wondered if he were still the eccentric man she had met all of those years back.

Julian had been her everything, the only person who mattered to her; her precious butterfly. She remembered watching silent films in his private quarters, convincing him to dance with her to old songs and taking her first drink in his arms. He had been an important figure in her amnesiac state, he had been something of a role model.

She remembered taking pictures of the fool and refusing to rip them up; she could hear herself laughing at Julian, who was demanding the obliteration of the photographs and trying to corner her.

 _"I'll lock your camera away, Vi!"_ He would constantly threaten, chasing her around the back of the sofa.

She would laugh at his threats, hopping over the sofa and up the stairs to the door. _"I wanna remember my time with my butterfly!"_ She would complain once he caught her, carrying her back to the sofa, where they would sit for hours chatting and enjoying the company of each other.

She remembered their deeper conversations, where they would lay in each other's arms for hours and just... _discuss_ life, falling asleep together. They would share opinions and debate viewpoints, which were quite similar thinking back; they rarely argued over their opinions.

She had asked once, _"Why do you think Gabriel hates humanity?"_ And Julian had grown quiet for a long time, playing with her hair and humming, as if he had been struggling with an answer.

His answer had been, _"Gabriel just seems like an immature child with daddy issues."_ She had smiled at his honesty, capturing his hand in her own; she definitely agreed with Julian, though. _"Why are you asking, though?"_

 _"Curiosity."_ She had mumbled with a shrug of her shoulders. _"We all know that God isn't going to return, but Gabriel insists on killing humanity; he's piqued my interest."_

And she still agreed with those thoughts now. Pushing some elongated leaves from her path, Raguel glanced back to Ementior, who was falling behind a little; it would be easy to abandon the redhead in the darkness, she wouldn't know whether she was coming or going. To Raguel, this forest was the French Quarter; there were always nooks and crannies hidden to the naked eye.

"We aren't taking a leisurely stroll through the countryside, Ementior." Raguel reminded, earning herself a glare from the redhead. "Oh, sorry! I forgot you've been hiding in the shadows since the beginning of the Extermination War, you wouldn't know the importance of this alliance; don't lose your composure."

"If I were you, I'd watch my tone." Ementior replied as she stepped through the leaves. "You're stepping into dangerous territory."

Raguel murmured sarcastically, "I am positively _quaking_ in my boots, I might summon Gabriel to protect me!"

Ementior huffed, "Whatever."

Despite her previous thoughts on abandoning the redhead, Raguel decided it would be foolish to waste a perfectly good soldier; Ementior was one of the few higher angels who had honed her athleticism during the war, she had certainly risen from the awkward angel that apologised for breathing the same air as those superior to her and couldn't wield a sword for the life of her.

Plus, it would be suicidal of her to wander through this forest without _someone_ to watch her back. Even with the gifted nature of an archangel, Raguel would struggle taking on an entire patrol of both humans and eight-balls in woods she hadn't explored since her first months in New Delphi.

...Okay, okay! She wanted someone to tease, too...

 _[ ]_

 **[** Continued Flashback. **]**

Laying within the remains of an obliterated half wall was a higher angel with a split lip, dented armour and wounds coated in a silvery black dust; they were refusing to heal. Lips curved into a frown, Raguel circled the debris in slow strides, confused by the peculiar disruption; she had been just about ready to send Heaven into mass chaos and...

"Ugh!" She screamed furiously, swivelling on her heel to look at the higher angel—it would be ridiculously easy to kill him now, it could be considered mercy in comparison to the torturous thoughts that riddled her mind. She hissed, "Who in father's name are you?"

"Someone unimportant, Archangel." He slurred, eyes following her every movement.

"You just halted my _one_ weapon to use against my family, the one weapon that cannot be bloody stopped by a small effort." She explained with vague gestures, trying to project the impossibility of his actions. "You are far more important than you realise, soldier."

"You needn't be so angry, Archangel; it will all make sense in the future." The angel pushed himself from the rocks, wiping some damp blood from his chin with the back of his hand. "You must have one million questions, such as—"

Raguel interrupted, "Who are you? Who ordered you to come? Why did you target my weapon?"

The angel became quiet and looked to his feet with a new interest, fair hair curtaining his face and fingers tapping against each other with a nervous rhythm to them. Raguel shifted her weight and lifted her eyebrows, irritated by the lack of response from the soldier; she was growing tired of this petty game. "I...cannot answer your questions, Arch—"

The injured man interrupted his own sentence with pained gurgles, bright eyes widening upon constriction of his windpipes, but he was put out of his misery reasonably fast; blood sprayed from his throat and he sagged to the ground with a few last protests. "My apologies, I have a tendency to grow bored of liars rather fast."

Wiping some stray droplets of blood from her face, a breathless laugh shook her shoulders and a half smile replaced her frown. Another day, another foe.

 _[ ]_

 **[** Present Time. **]**

Sitting upon the ledge brought a sense of calming to Raguel—feeling nothing around her legs, hearing the whisper of the wind, smelling the sea and tasting the freshness. Ahead of her was a beautiful landscape of dusty land, which resembled that of a ghost town in the quiet evening, and it all led up to the underground city of New Delphi.

Her mind raced with possible outcomes for the upcoming situation and her stomach ached with nervousness. Leaning against her hands, Raguel stared at the distant city longingly, the threat of war creeping over her hunched form; Julian would be dragged into this war because of Alex Lannon, who was being hunted by Gabriel and Michael for two _very_ different reasons. And yet, her brothers continued to wonder why she wasn't keen on the child?

"Another patrol is heading this way, I suggest we start moving." Ementior called softly, placing a hand upon her shoulder. "Being the clever individual that you are, I would love to assume that you remember the safest _and_ quickest way into the city?"

"Don't patronise me, Ementior..." Raguel murmured, slapping her hand away dismissively. "Just follow my lead unless I tell you otherwise, got it?" Ementior nodded.

* * *

 **A/N: I AM DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER AND IT FEELS SO GOOD, DAMN IT.**

 **Right, I said Julian was going to be in this chapter...I wasn't lying, technically...hehe. I'm sorry, okay? I wanted to write a really sweet reunion in this chapter, I wanted to make it Julel-fluff based b/c fluff is the best way to get around the "no pairing" hammer...but it never happened.**

 **Long story short: I prefer to keep the chapters of this story to about 2,000 words due to presentation, paragraphing and OCD-like purposes.**

 **However, I'm going to dedicate the next chapter to Julian & Raguel, so I hope that makes up to my inability to keep promises. So much freaking drama, man...**

 **Feel free to drop a review, but don't feel pressured. x**


	9. Chapter Eight

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Eight.

 **[** New Delphi. **]**

Landing upon the asphalt road, they approached the tunnel with long and determined strides, wings stretching around their bodies to block the empyrean steel bullets that flew towards them—the barricade was broken to slash at those stupid enough to get close enough, creating an awful roar of wind that threw many off of their feet.

Upon the computer screen, their faces were obscured by the greenish tint and abnormally quick movements, but there was a sense of familiarity about them. Tapping his feet against the stone floor, he found himself progressively losing interest in Alex and his alliance; the lad was only useful for the location of his amphora, really.

The hooded angel stopped directly under a camera, seemingly hesitant to advance into the dark tunnel; as if she had an idea on what entering the city would mean for her. Rolling her shoulders, she closed her wings and took a deep breath, before she started her journey down the tunnel—the other angel was quick to follow.

He wanted them cornered in one area, his city was already being plagued by the archangels; he didn't want the Powers following after them or he really _wouldn't_ stand a chance, amphora or not. If they were Powers, he realised that it would be quite difficult to kill them without losing one quarter of his men...

Agitated, he stood up and slammed his hands down onto the console, glaring at the disappearing silhouettes of the angels. He yelled, "Gus!" His uninvited guests were going to leave, one way or another.

 _[ ]_

The smooth wall was cool beneath her fingertips—so familiar, so welcoming. She maundered down the corridor, dark eyes pale with a glassy mist; unable to collect the willpower to treat the situation with some much-needed caution.

Yes, she remembered the threats that laced this city; she had helped design some of them, actually. Lowering her guard in here was stupid, but she found herself caring less and less about her fate by the second; she had stopped paying attention to it since allowing her enemy to accompany her to this torturous place.

She was leading them to the marketplace, where she was sure there would be something to gain _his_ attention; a difficult task, she had noted over the years. During the past three months, she had received her fair share of news on New Delphi, but nothing that suggested a war between them; it was different now, though...

After he found out her identity, there would no doubt be nothing less than a massacre to both sides. She wasn't particularly excited to spill more blood, she would actually prefer it if they could just have a calm discussion over an alliance; but she was fully aware that there was a very slim chance that it would actually happen.

Coming to a stop at the end of the corridor, she held her hand up for the redhead to stop and cocked her head slightly to the left. Through her clouded mind, she could hear two sets of footsteps heading their way, both the pace of a military soldier.

Pressing her head against the cool stone, she leant against the wall and closed her hand into a tight fist, unable to give the order. A familiar hand gripped her shoulder, pushing it downwards until pain roared through her strong vessel; she was going to...

"Get a grip on reality, _Archangel_." Long nails digging through her coat, the redhead whispered into her ear cruelly, "And by reality, I mean the black and white nature you were created with; not this _grey_ area you've wandered into." She dropped her hand and ducked backwards, a wise action on her part.

...Ah, could you hear it? It was a loud noise, screaming above the attention seeking manipulation of the red haired angel. Imagine a herd of wild horses stampeding down a narrow corridor, then multiply that horrendously loud sound by one hundred. Those interested in Irish mythology would perhaps describe it as the wail of a banshee, and that was a clear sign of death.

 _[ ]_

Drumming his fingers against the table, Julian watched the old man outline his view on the two higher angels; he thought one of them knew the city, as they seemed to be heading through corridors and rooms that didn't have many soldiers. It was quite an interesting opinion, but Julian still wanted them out of his city; he didn't care about their past with it.

"Stop it." Gus croaked, weary eyes glaring at the leather clad Dyad. "You're thinking about doing something stupid, I've spent enough time cleaning up after you to know."

Julian retorted sarcastically, "Oh, I didn't realise you wanted me to invite these angels into my city with open arms, my apologies."

"Don't take words from my mouth, Julian." Gus replied sharply, dropping his pencil and straightening up, pointing to a line marked **CORRIDOR : E**. "If my intuition is correct, I would say they'd head through this corridor next, as it's a clear shot to the marketplace and the least guarded."

"Why would they head there, though? They aren't going to find anything." Julian muttered, confused. "Do you think they're searching for something?"

Gus shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. "Higher angels have proven to be... _complex_ , I don't believe I've been able to predict their ulterior motives since the beginning of this war." He explained with a sigh. "You wouldn't happen to have any intel on 'em, would you?"

"I haven't the slightest clue, Gus." Julian lied, shrugging his shoulders. "Although, I doubt intel will save us; I'm going to confront them."

If his scouts were correct in their findings, Julian highly doubted this visit was going to end nicely—he could envision the graveyard that New Delphi would become. Tombstones would be engraved with angelic names, the land around them charred and dead; thick clouds would never allow the sun to properly shine through to the nightmare.

Although, Julian couldn't see himself joining his soldiers in the ground, he could only see himself sitting with his arms locked around the monster that put them there in the first place. It would cling to him like a lost child, head bowed and dark eyes shining with the remaining light; no one would leave or enter New Delphi again.

Downstairs was full of vibrations, which quickly escalated into tremors that resembled earthquakes, tipping precious items over and prompting both men to clutch onto the table for their lives. This was the work of a particular angel, one of great power and authority—Julian was truly fearing for his life now.

"Tell your men to keep away from them, too." Julian ordered once the ground stilled, turning away from the table. "They'll survive a helluva lot longer, trust me."

"Were you asleep during that tremor, sir?!" Gus shouted furiously, rounding the table to confront him. "I would lay it down to coincidence, but—"

Julian interrupted, "That wasn't a coincidence, it was a coping mechanism of a temperamental higher angel." It was a hurried explanation, which didn't seem to reassure the human one bit; Julian didn't have the time to give a more detailed statement, though. He continued, "If you want a city to call home, I suggest you let me handle it."

It was a situation that could change for the worst at any point, Julian had learnt that from too many wars in the past; they could be laying under rubble in seconds, screaming from severed limbs in minutes, dying in an hour. If he were correct about the identity of this angel, Julian knew that it wouldn't be as simple as that; there would be torture and mockery, New Delphi would be retitled as _City of Ghouls_. He had witnessed the process in the past, he had seen great countries fall to an angel contained within Heaven.

Destruction wasn't foreign to this angel and a ceasefire was going to be difficult to create.

"Good luck, sir." Gus muttered as he stepped to the side, eyes focused on his boots. Julian was grateful for the cooperation.

He thanked the human with a nod and ascended the carpeted stairs, leaving the room; he hoped his luck wouldn't run out now.

 _[ ]_

Descending the concrete steps, her footsteps echoing throughout the reasonably quiet marketplace. Her fingers were dusted with crushed stone and dust, glazed by precise splatters of hardening blood and they were tangled in the knotted hair of a decapitated head. The body was abandoned somewhere in a corridor, mutilated and disfigured, laying alongside his patrol partner.

Walking along behind her was Ementior, following her decisions as ordered previously, but hesitance breathed from her vessel. She had been quiet since confronting the archangel, keeping her distance; she could sense a _horrifyingly_ wicked disturbance in Raguel, but she couldn't quite put her finger on the familiarity.

The pair crossed into the marketplace, where they found a group of soldiers—both humans and angels. They would be easy to take out, but Raguel wanted to play a little; she wanted to provoke them, degrade them into something smaller than a grain of sand; she wanted to remind Julian that he couldn't control them.

If she were correct in her layout of the city, it would take Julian a good ten minutes to reach the marketplace. That gave her... _seven_ minutes to rile these fools up, which was plenty of time in her book; triggering reactions happened to be a speciality of hers.

Ementior paused in her stride, "I'm going to sit this one out, if you don't mind, dear."

"Go right ahead, I doubt they would survive mockery from both of us." Raguel replied with a crooked little smile, lifting her eyebrows. "I suggest sitting far from the centre, though; I predict a flood."

"You seem to have brightened up." Ementior observed; it seemed the archangel had figured her plan out, but was just waiting for the perfect beginning to pop up. Ementior asked, "Which side of you do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

Raguel hummed, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Ementior shook her head dismissively and left the auburn to her own devices, deciding she would rather survive the next hour without a lecture from either side of the powerful soldier. She muttered, "Whatever."

Ignoring the lack of fight from the redhead, Raguel swivelled on her heel and approached the men with an almost cheery bounce to her stride. Five minutes, she would see Julian in five minutes. She could kill three men in a couple of seconds, torture two with hallucinations of their loved ones in a minute, break the fingers and legs of one in a shorter time than either of those options. Admittedly, they were quite tempting thoughts.

However, she would settle for the dreadfully boring chitchat from the men for now.

"Good evening, gentlemen." She greeted, stopping once catching their attention. "Could I borrow your attention for a minute or two?"

A balding middle-aged man was the first to question her, "Who are you?"

"That's quite a repetitive question today, isn't it?" She answered, interest dropping in the man almost immediately. "If you must know, I'll tell you in return for some entertainment until Julian arrives."

A possessed twenty-something male repeated, "Who are you?"

Closing her eyes, Raguel sighed at the monotone personalities of New Delphi soldiers; she had hoped they would have... _evolved_. Within a whisper, she dropped the head and destroyed the balance of a stall by taking a leg, which she used to idly break the possessed man's head open. Blood exploded from the vessel, spraying over both Raguel and those standing close to the man, before he sagged to the floor with little twitches.

She had wanted to play with them. She had wanted to be entertained, but she realised she was angry; upset, even. Stepping away from the body, Raguel dropped the leg and turned to the remaining soldiers, gesturing to the dead one.

"Please leave questions until the end, because you'll end up somewhere darker than hell if you continue to upset me."

 _[ ]_

Gunfire filled the large marketplace, digging itself into every nook and cranny, reverberating back onto the sensitive ears of the archangel. Leaping from counter to counter, Raguel narrowly dodged bullets with childish glee; it was almost like a dance one would have found in Ireland, Scotland or Wales—placing minimal weight on her feet, she relaxed herself and moved naturally. She taunted the men with her inability to get hit, flicking her hair and humming smugly.

Half of their ammo was littering the floor in the form of empty cartridges, wasted upon a target that refused to be hit so soon into the game. Raguel had observed their heart rate from the beginning, bewildered by the racing beat that oozed with rage; the possessed had become overrun with the emotion, whilst the humans still held onto some of their compassion, but she doubted it would be long until they lost it.

There were three minutes remaining of the game and Raguel had figured out her strategy. It would be stupid to use her wings in this situation, they had already taken a beating from the outside attack; they would need some time to heal, but Raguel could sense she wouldn't be using them too much anyway.

She had decided to take an offensive approach with a defensive shell. It would commence in precisely three seconds...

As the gunfire slowed to a halt, Raguel dropped down from a counter and clasped her hands in front of her, lifting her shoulders. She mocked, "Gosh, it must be tough to have those violent tools jam at such a time! You could have hit me."

"What did you do?" A human boy, he was no older than twenty, with dark hair demanded.

Despite the sarcasm that riddled her mind, attempting to slip out, Raguel decided to answer his demand seriously. "I entered this room with two people, although one was inevitably dead, but let's ignore this fact." She fronted the boy with a steady stride and unwavering eyes, leaning downwards until their eyes were level with each other. "Unless I have lost the ability to recognise these two people, I don't see either of them standing with me at this very second, do you?"

The boy swallowed his words, shifting his gaze to where Ementior had been sitting. She had seemed quite caught up in picking dirt from her nails, but he realised they _had_ been incredibly focused on taking the auburn angel out; it wasn't entirely impossible she had ducked into the shadows. He hadn't encountered a higher angel who possessed the strategic mind of the one before him, he would admit that he was impressed.

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, understand?" Raguel lowered her voice into a whisper, pleased when he nodded. "I want you to leave this room, I want you to leave quickly."

Mercy was uncommon for angels, he had noted during his time outside of New Delphi, so it was confusing to have such a ruthless angel offer him an escape route from her dark intentions. He questioned shakily, "Why?"

"When I was created, God explained to me that I was to be the replicate child of my older brother, someone of great balance and connection." She explained softly, smiling in remembrance of her brother. "Although, I never quite lived up to my brother's power; father created him to be the perfect child, you see." It was true, the loving fool had been quite the image of their father, an angel that would have been believed in before the war. "Anyway, I've grown to become an angel that has people crying at the mention of my name; I'm ruthless and I have a dark sense of balance in comparison to my brother, but I won't hurt another child."

 _Another?_ She had hurt children in the past? He was slightly insulted she would refer to him as a child, but he guessed that any human was considered a child in comparison to the celestial species. He would accept her mercy, he decided. "Thank you."

"Go." She ordered and straightened herself up, returning her attention to the adults. "So, if I'm not the one jamming your weapons, that brings on another question: who is?"

There were a chorus of disgruntled noises, none of them considering the possibility of a coincidence. It would be impossible for a coincidence to be so precise, right? It seemed there was some hope for the intelligence of soldiers yet. The human boy took this as his signal to escape from the upcoming violence and confrontation, his hurried footsteps ringing in her ears; she hoped he would guide himself from this city of lies.

She didn't wait around for the men to answer her almost rhetorical question, instead acting almost immediately upon her darkest desires to obliterate their existences. She only managed to get her hands on one human soldier before she was confronted, which was both disappointing and riveting.

 _[ ]_

"Enough of this!" Julian yelled furiously, descending into the marketplace and fight. He had only seen his city littered with so much blood once or twice, but the blood usually belonged to his enemies and not the soldiers that fought alongside him. He glared at the hooded angel, "You won't lay another hand upon them."

"Will I not?" She asked, tilting her head in mock curiosity. "And who is going to stop me, hmm? You?"

With her hand placed precariously over the man's throat, Julian doubted he would be able to physically stop her from killing the human; she had decapitated another angel in the short span of that tremor, this was a situation that could be compared to a leisurely stroll. Verbal persuasion was his only option, he decided; he refused to declare surrender against her. "You have knowledge on this city, yes? You know of our nature."

She answered, "Trading."

"Trading." He confirmed, taking a careful couple of steps towards the angel. "If you let the man in your arms go, I'll make a trade with you."

"You promise?" She asked with childlike cuteness, tone differing from her previous monotone one. In this moment, Julian could compare her to someone he used to know; adamant on appearing threatening, but actually bottling up fear and innocence that she sealed with anger and raw power. "I'll eradicate your city if you betray me, got it?"

"I don't doubt that for a second, therefore I beg you to put your faith in me for the remainder of your time here." Julian held one hand out to her, hoping to convince her with his answer. She was hesitant to let the human go, as she would immediately lose her leverage if she did, but slowly she lifted her hands and allowed the man to slip away with only a few small cuts. "Thank you." A small nod with a sweet smile was his answer.

"I apologise for the deaths of your men, Julian." She apologised genuinely, stepping forwards. "If you aren't planning to keep me isolated from other trades, I would like to make one for your losses."

Now, that was an interesting offer from someone who seemed to detest those around her, regardless of species. If he were following her train of thought correctly, she was intending to trade someone's life in place for those who had died today; Julian was confused as to why he found this so surprising. "And who's life do you plan to trade?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"The angel who came here with me, her name is Ementior." She explained with vague gestures, shrugging. "If you aren't aware of her existence, I assure you that she is lower than any higher angel you detest; she's a manipulative bitch, someone who will kill both you and I if you don't kill her first."

Ah, Ementior—the presumed dead angel, loyal to no one other than herself and an old friend of the two eldest archangels. Julian had been lucky enough to dodge that bullet, but he wasn't going to wait around for it to hit, so he agreed to the trade. "How do you know Ementior, if you don't mind me asking?" He questioned.

She asked, "Is it really that much of a mystery?"

"Don't answer my question with another question." Julian snapped, crossing his arms across his chest. "I'm curious now, though."

"I'm not apologising, grumpy." She continued, "My identity plays a big part in our association with each other, but I haven't considered her anything above a nuisance for a long time." And thus, his curiosity continued to grow; the higher angel was ahead of him, though.

Hooking her fingers under the sunglasses that hid her eyes, she removed them from her bloodstained face and tucked them into her pocket. Slowly, she threw her hood back to reveal long auburn hair, which was tangled and knotted from a supposedly long journey through the forest; she seemed to come together like a beautiful painting.

At first, Julian was stiller than a statue, unsure of the person before him. It took him a good ten minutes to accept her identity, his voice remained trapped and he couldn't take his eyes from the woman he had presumed dead. If this was a dream, he was going to wake himself up and do something incredibly stupid; this was too much.

And yet, he found himself accepting a tearful hug from the dream woman, shakily sinking to the ground with her. Arms wrapped around his torso, face nestled into the crook of his neck, fingers clutching onto the leather of his jacket—she cried. Arms resting on her shoulders, head quilting her own, fingers tangled into her beautiful hair—he whimpered.

He whispered hoarsely, "Vivian?"

Her voice barely made it from her mouth, "Yeah?"

He didn't care for her identity as a higher angel at the moment, he only cared for the fact that she was in his arms; she was home, she could rest. "Stay with me?"

For a second, she forgot about the war and her worries, she forgot her reasons for coming here and she remembered the warmth of someone who loved her. "Always and forever, my dearest butterfly."

* * *

 **A/N: Whoa, this was a long chapter with a lot of confusing scenes, I bet.**

 **They are reunited, let the war cease for a minute because I have been celebrating this moment for the entirety of the time I spent writing it. Not to be a pompous twit or anything, but my feelings shattered at the ending because I know what happens in the epilogue of Songbird. [Hugs my characters]**

 **And now, we pity Ementior for placing the small amount of trust she had into Raguel. You were a fun character, I apologise deeply for the torture I'm going to put you through. xox**

 **Ah! That reminds me, I would just like to clarify for those wondering about Lucifer and Raguel. It's been stated in the canon universe that Lucifer was born without another half and I respect that, but I thought it would be an interesting path to leave open for future reference.**

 **Raguel isn't the twin of Lucifer, she was merely created out of inspiration from her brother. Thus, she was labelled as a replica until Lucifer was executed, but like I said** — **I'm leaving the path open for a future chapter. c:**

 **We'll be exploring the** _dark sense of balance_ **that Raguel harbours, too. I've wanted to explore it for a while, but I haven't had a chapter to slot it into; thank Christ for New Delphi, right?**

 **As for the mercy Raguel showed upon the boy, what are your thoughts on it? Personally, I think it shows that Raguel has some compassion in her; she just hides it with a lot of anger and hatred. If she really showed an interest in someone, I believe she could be a great guardian to them.**

 **I'm sure these things will show in a chapter soon! c:**

 **Feel free to drop a review, but don't feel pressured. x**


	10. Chapter Nine

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Nine.

Hate colours the soul, he had learnt over his time in the ether. It breaks a person down and builds them back up again, void of any positivity and full of negativity. He had witnessed many fighting a losing battle and the outcome continued to repeat itself; the wave of ill thoughts returned with vengeance, digging into the person until they were torn apart and became lower than the very definition of nothing.

The soul becomes coloured in dark shades of purple, blue and black; the mind becomes tormented by the negative energy, which breaks down into tiny pieces that just can't be picked up and locked away. It was easy to spot a person overridden with hatred, they happened to have quite a distinctive look in their eyes; they were shrieking for freedom, but their eyes flickered between this and a sense of confused contentment. The way they held themselves was an easy distinction, too.

 _For where hatred had claimed possession, there was no room for love_ _—and left unchecked, hatred can completely poison the soul._

 _[ ]_

Eyeing the counter distastefully, Vivian shifted her weight from one foot to the other, crossing her arms over. She huffed, "And I was thinking you remained stupid and naive."

"Hmm, I bet you were hoping that those weapons would blend nicely with your outfit." Julian teased, smiling at the higher angel. "Come on, don't be shy."

It was a crucial necessity that Vivian remained unarmed during her time in New Delphi. Vivian had quite a short temper, she would lash out and destroy her surroundings, so it was safer for them all if she was vulnerable and careful of her decisions; if she didn't have her weapons at hand, she would be forced to consider the consequences. However, it was convincing her to hand them over without a fight that was going to be difficult; Julian could already feel the friction between them, he needed this to be over quickly.

"Christ, fine!" She agreed exasperatedly, rolling her eyes and uncrossing her arms. She became still for a minute, head tilting to look over her shoulder—fear and confusion started to seep through her otherwise calm persona; her breath hitched with a soft squeak and her hands pressed downwards onto the table until it creaked in protest. "I...I..." She whimpered, sinking to the ground once again—it was a concerning sight.

Narrowing his eyes at the peculiar fear, Julian spared a glance over to his men; they were shaking in their boots, clearly unsure of the situation themselves. They didn't understand Vivian; they didn't understand why he was letting her live, but he didn't particularly care for their understanding at the moment; he only cared for the survival of everyone in this immediate area. He exhaled, attempting to calm his racing heart—this could go wrong very quickly.

Instead of lingering on the possibilities, Julian found himself ducking under the table to confront and understand the panic; he regretted his decision almost immediately. Vivian gnawed at her bottom lip until blood trickled down her chin, staining her almost transparent skin with a darker contrast; he would have been disturbed if he hadn't spent almost six years with the woman. No, he was more disturbed by the raw discomposure on her face—it was an expression that moulded her face to have unnaturally wide eyes and a scared pout to her lips.

"Vi—Vivian, hey!" Julian called, cupping her face within one hand; she was freezing and completely out of it. "Look at me, Vi."

Shifting her glassy eyes towards the direction of his voice, Vivian admitted, "I'm really scared." Her speech was slurred, but somehow coherent.

Julian assured softly, "You needn't be." She shook her head quickly, starting to protest against the reassurance. "I wouldn't hurt you."

Her interruption was punctual, taking place immediately after the last syllable of his sentence. She pushed his hand away from her face, she pushed him backwards onto the floor, she pulled herself from under the counter and attempted to flee; a bullet dug into her shoulder and she fell back to her knees, enabling Julian to shift behind her and wrap an arm around her neck, preventing her from attacking or running. Her screams were shrill and demanding, her thrashing almost unbearable—the poor girl was in tears, absolutely petrified of whatever she was witnessing.

Her heartbeat had accelerated to a concerning speed, it was hammering in her chest as if trying to escape the cage that protected it. She was short of breath, but that didn't mean she was giving Julian an easy time; even in the midst of a panic attack, Vivian still managed to be tricky. She demanded her freedom, hitting her fists against the floor and kicking furiously, attempting to squirm from his arms; Julian kept her imprisoned with practised simplicity, hushing her heightening sobs; she was desperate to flee somewhere safer, perhaps a room she remembered from her time here, but he couldn't let her out of his sight for now.

As the hysteria started to pass, Vivian slowly relaxed against his body—her cries quietened into soft snivelling and her breathing softened until she was fast asleep. Loosening his hold on her, Julian breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention back to his men; they seemed absolutely lost.

"Find her somewhere to rest and someone get medical supplies." He ordered, waving them away dismissively. He added, "And keep Alex away from her."

 _[ ]_

Sitting upon the edge of the bed, Gus shook his head worriedly; this wasn't exactly the ideal way to be reunited with an old friend. He had hoped they would meet on equal grounds, too—he never would have expected Vivian to be harbouring such a dangerous identity, but he couldn't help but feel a bit pleased for her; she finally remembered.

However, the cost of her memories seemed to be a life full of difficult challenges—it seemed her body was used to abuse, it had barely flinched under the careful and curious prodding of the veteran; Gus couldn't make himself believe it was purely because she was a higher angel. He had asked Julian if he knew who Vivian had been in Heaven, but the other had simply shrugged with a clueless remark; Gus was having a hard time trusting him, though.

Despite his close bond with Julian, there were still subjects that neither of them were completely honest about with each other...

Taking a deep breath, Gus picked himself up from the bed and gave Vivian a once-over; she didn't seem to be getting any better, regardless of her celestial genetics. Whatever had happened to her in the marketplace, it hadn't left her without a parting gift. He murmured, "You've just arrived home and you're already leaving."

 _[ ]_

 **[** Dream Sequence. **]**

When she wakes up, she wakes up suddenly—devoid of the usual haze she received with waking up. Her surroundings were foreign, unrecognisable to even her vivid mind; she was somewhere white—she was somewhere that had barely any shadows, there was no colour that stood out; she felt claustrophobic upon waking up, but restraints kept her from attempting to find the danger.

This was something of a trick, she deduced immediately; she was asleep in New Delphi, relying on Julian to figure out the exterior damage. She had figured out her situation through close observation and memory; she was experiencing another form of telepathy and that narrowed the culprit down to a handful of higher angels.

"You're awfully bold for someone I could snap like a twig." She commented airily, squinting at the bright canvas above her.

A gravelly laugh rumbled from her left, "You're as intelligent as he claims, Raguel." The man replied, voice softened with mirth. "You would make a fine ally."

"Intelligent? I'm honoured." She mumbled, lips curving into a slight smile. She continued, "If your... _benefactor_ is equally intelligent, he should have realised I was about to discuss the outcome of this war with the leader of New Delphi; a tipsy vessel with a headache isn't exactly how you prove a point with men like him."

"You're making a mistake with Julian." He answered, prompting a drawn out eye roll from the archangel. "He isn't the man you fell in love with, he will use and kill you."

"Granted, I'm not the same woman he loved; we're on equal ground for the opportunity to kill." She shrugged her shoulders and continued, "I'm guessing you're here for something other than a conversation on relationship issues, though. What do you want?"

He explained, "My benefactor, as you call him, wants you to reconsider your decisions; you have many potential allies, why waste your time with an unlikely friend?"

"Even if I burnt my complicated explanation down to three worded sentences, wrote it in basic English and then hosted a thorough question and answer; you would never understand my reasons for wasting my time with Julian." She replied, pulling at her restraints once again. "Regardless of our differences, Julian possesses a weapon I need to keep my motives standing strong and I'm sure he'll agree with said motives quite strongly."

She envisioned the man shaking his head with a sigh, as if he were talking to an undisciplined child. He hissed, "And what, pray tell, are your motives?"

A nonchalant laugh shook her restrained body, her head shaking as she tilted her gaze downwards to her boots. She mocked, "Who knows?"

 _[ ]_

Once again, she wakes up without the haze of sleep in her system—her mind takes in every aspect of detail vividly, her eyes squint under the harsh—but dim—lighting; she realised she had been out longer than she thought, unless it took only a couple of seconds for her shoulder to completely heal from an empyrean steel embedded bullet. Oh, if only that was the case; she could save herself a lot of trouble with her wings, honestly.

Her head ached with a familiar burn, one that she could never quite grow accustomed to; it was difficult to create a coping mechanism for a celestial defect, after all. Underneath the burn, she could feel something that resembled fear and emotional pain—she had connected it to the emptiness of that imaginary image, as it resembled the hellish prison she had been kept in within Heaven; where God had ordered her to bring justice to both man and angelic kind.

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, exhaling shakily and reaching for her belt; she was surprised when her fingers danced along the sharp edge of her axes. She would have expected Julian to take them from her—not that she was complaining! She would rather have her weapons, hidden or not, on her; she had a terrible feeling about the foreseeable future...

Whoever had managed to summon her mind— _her_ mind!—to such a private place, she could confirm that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with them; someone who could flood her system with enough fear to cripple her...she refused to get involved with such a person; she couldn't defeat them if they could inflict her with emotional and mental harm. It was rare that someone could scratch the surface of her mind, let alone smash through her every defence and render her unconscious; this newcomer had left her petrified—hell, _petrified_ was an understatement to what she was feeling.

Raguel was shocked out of her thoughts by the door swinging open, which cued the entrance of three lower angels and Julian; she could sense a fourth presence, but they seemed to be lingering outside of the room with an aura of notable fear. She lifted herself up from the bed, tucking her legs underneath her to sit on them.

"Julian, I need to talk to you." She stated urgently, frowning at the thoughts that riddled her mind. "There's something you haven't considered about this war."

Julian took a seat upon the bed across from her, lifting an eyebrow at the statement. He asked, "How would you know anything on the war, Vi? I thought you were done."

"Michael ignored that decision, he wanted to even the scales." She explained, voice becoming heavy with an icy edge. She continued, "He would have killed me, Julian."

"Michael seems to have a habit of killing his own species, doesn't he?" Julian murmured, shaking his head distastefully. "I'm sorry, Vi."

Raguel shook her head, dismissing his apology for her terrible situation; her eyes softened with warm tears for his, though. She had heard rumours of the ether, how it ruined a once beautifully bright soul into a dull glow—she wouldn't have paid those souls any attention before she met Julian; he had taught her acceptance, brought a true meaning to her title of _balance_. She knew Julian had darkened with hatred during the war, the once eccentric fool now replaced with a cunning strategist, but she still wanted to bring an alliance between them—if she could support his cause, then he would surely support hers.

Clearing her throat, Raguel closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the already falling tears and asked, "Can...can we talk about our trade, Julian?"

"Of course, what do you want to discuss?" Julian agreed and she nodded, pleased.

"An alliance." She announced softly, savouring the symptoms of confusion from the Dyad; he cleared his throat and hummed, drumming his fingers against the frame of the bed. She resumed, "You're the only person who rivals my hatred towards God, I want us to work together to achieve both of our goals."

"I highly doubt our plans are on equal ground." Julian answered, luring a mocking laugh from her lips; she would be amazed if her goal was even slightly lower than his own. Surprisingly, he gave into her mockery quickly and questioned, "Okay, shoot; what are you planning, Vi?"

"Treason..." She explained blithely, laughter lightening into a sense of madness. "Nobody has ever committed treason against God, right? I wanna commit treason."

As the bed dipped with extra weight, Julian laughed at the mad idea—he was probably shaking his head, he often did that. He teased, "You can't just commit treason, idiot."

"Why not? You did." Raguel pointed out, elbowing him softly; he returned the action, before placing one hand on her knee. "Please, Julian? I...can't do it on my own."

"I've been trying to keep you from this road, Vivian." Julian admitted, sounding both guilty and lost. "However, I suppose you're capable of taking care of yourself, so I only ask one thing: what _exactly_ do you want to do?"

Raguel became silent for a while, leaning heavily against his side as she pondered her sentence. She wanted to sound convincing, but she highly doubted that would be possible without revealing her name to Julian and she was _sure_ he would kill her if he learnt of her identity; Julian absolutely detested archangels and he hated them for good reasons, too. Her idiot brothers had demoted him to a lower angel because Michael was incapable of facing the truth, whilst Gabriel was too much of an emotional wreck to actually care for those around him; it had been a tough decision, one that she should have made, not them.

They believed they knew the true meaning of justice, but Raguel could tell you that they didn't know the first thing about it; she had been the one weighed down by balance, her brothers had been able to live as soldiers of God without knowing that she had spent her free time trying to plummet from Heaven; she had wanted to disconnect herself for so long, she was actually _grateful_ that Gabriel had stupidly broken that seal.

Gabriel had given her the opportunity to retaliate against God, she would be eternally thankful for that.

"Before God left, he kept me secluded from my family; he locked me in a bright white room with no scenery, only a set of bronze scales. He gave me the job of balancing, he told me that I had to take responsibility for the actions of my older brother, who had previously taught mankind how to evolve." She took a deep breath and continued, "I hated God for what he had done to my brother, so I ruthlessly killed until he paid attention to the... _bloodbath_ ; he cursed me with balance, which led to inevitable madness."

Many would assume balance was a medicine to her pain, something to distract her from thinking of Lucifer; but it had only served as a distraction from the murder spree she had inflicted upon her brethren many times before. She would sit in front of the scales for weeks upon months, deciding the fates of both humans and angels, killing anyone who dared to interfere with her foggy concentration; God hadn't allowed her out of her cell for centuries, because he had been afraid she would rebel like Lucifer.

However, she had been given enough time to scheme against her creator during those centuries; she wasn't going to throw the opportunity away.

"...Long story short, I wasn't given the luxury of an easy life in Heaven—I was nothing more than a prisoner, I don't want that life to return to me again; I want to be free, it's the only thing that I've never succeeded in getting, Julian." She explained, eyes slowly fluttering open as she wrapped her arms around his torso, her head resting upon his arm. "He stripped my personality away and titled me The Balanced Child, but then he left and I titled myself Raguel—I want to show him the difference between us, I want to stop him from returning to this universe."

* * *

 **A/N: [Applauding from author] And thus, we find out the reasons why Raguel is so messed up, something I've been working on for the past month or so.**

 **Not gonna lie, I was incredibly disappointed with my writing in this chapter and I wanted to restart it completely, but then I started getting an idea and I just started writing until I was completely satisfied with the vast variety of plot in this chapter. I particularly enjoyed writing the dream-like sequence, where Raguel became panicked and scared, because it shows that even someone as vicious as her can become paralysed with fear.**

 **In response to _MusketeerAdventure_ : Thank you for your continued support on my stories, I appreciate it! As for your questions, I'll admit that I can't answer the latter due to spoilers for the plot, but I will answer your former: I plan to write the canon characters into this story, although I'm still unsure of how I want them to interact with Raguel; I'd say expect a lot of physical confrontations and attempts on lives, hehe. c:**

 **And so we're brought to the elephant in the room; Dominion has been cancelled. I was distraught when I found out, because Dominion is one of the few shows that I got super excited for; I was always ecstatic whenever I saw an update on it or whenever I saw an advert for it, so you can probably imagine how I felt when a friend of mine broke the news to me...**

 **However, I was also told that some lovely human of this world has created a petition for Netflix to save the show and I have never signed a petition faster. If anyone is interested in seeing this amazing show brought back for a season 3, I highly suggest you sign the petition and share it with your friends.**

 **Search:** _netflix-save-dominion_ **, the petition only needs a few more people to sign and we may have a shot.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter; reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured. x**


	11. Chapter Ten

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

* * *

Chapter Ten.

Her stomach cramped with a nauseous swirl, her mind racing with broken thoughts; ones that weren't fully mature yet, ones that didn't belong with her. During her lifetime, she had only experienced such compelling emotions once or twice; she remembered the addicting feeling of her heartbeat losing rhythm as it continued to pulsate, as if her blood was slowly solidifying into cement—suffocating her from the inside out.

Her shoulders jumped with hiccups, which were the result of hot tears that streaked her face; she couldn't see an inch in front of her with the watery foreground, but she was well aware of the horrendous torture that was happening across from her. She had tried to muster the strength to fight, viciously lashing out at those who attempted to subdue her, and yet she was still begging for her ally to show mercy upon the very man that wronged him in the first place.

Digging her nails into the cool flooring beneath her, she could hear herself muttering her native tongue; wishing a brutal death upon the imbecile that had brought such a fate to them, wishing his soul to be haunted within the afterlife—someone such as Alex Lannon didn't deserve the peace that paradise offered.

 _[ ]_

Two hours earlier, Raguel had been slipping a cream vest over her head as the penultimate piece to a new outfit, listening to curious questions from Julian. She dusted the top free of creases with one hand, using the other to tug her hair free and brush it over her shoulder thoughtlessly, before she swivelled on her heel to face her ally; she could finally breathe a sigh of relief that she could label Julian as that.

He became quiet once she had turned, a half smile curving his lips. He stated, "You look stunning; almost as if you never left."

"Perhaps we wouldn't be looking at each other with distrust if I hadn't chosen to leave." She answered dejectedly, clasping her hands together. "Thank you, though."

Shaking his head at the negative response, Julian approached the unsure archangel with a reassuring comment, "Regardless of our needed hatred towards each other, I wouldn't lay a hand upon you without a ridiculously good reason, Vi...Raguel." And even if she could hear his heartbeat skipping, Raguel believed the Dyad.

Nodding, Raguel took a seat upon the bed behind her, wondering if she could return the hoax of mercy; it would be difficult to perfect in such limited time. If she mislead Julian and he learnt of the lies, Raguel was sure she would be facing something much more painful than death—he had retaught her a lot of deception during her amnesia faze, plus his species alone made him quite a difficult man to trick; Raguel would be amazed if she outwitted the higher angel in him, honestly.

It was difficult to convince herself that she could perfect the hoax, let alone convince Julian that she wouldn't lay a hand upon his men; especially after she had buried two of them in rubble, decapitated one and sliced up a few outside. In her defence, though, they had been attacking her because of a lie Julian told them about every archangel; she would admit that her family was full of narcissists, but she hadn't been particularly fond of how her brothers had demoted Lyrae into the ether, because it had been an immature and hypocritical move. She wasn't one for discrimination, though, and those men were just a couple of the many casualties made in her hatred towards it.

Lifting her gaze to look at the Englishman, Raguel was quick to flick it towards the slightly ajar door; she didn't want to spend much more time in this room, she needed to see her brothers—because in spite of her hatred towards God, Raguel loved her brothers very dearly, even if she tried to separate herself from their recklessness and shook her head at... _most_ of their personalities; she had been trying to keep them safe for centuries, just like Lucifer had asked of her the night before his obliteration.

"Why are you working with Alex Lannon?" Raguel blurted, fiddling with the stray strands of her hair. "You realise he'll betray you, right? Why haven't you killed him, Julian?"

Julian replied, "Alex has already betrayed me; took my amphora and used it as leverage."

Anger and dread rushed through her system upon learning the new information. She questioned, "You allowed Lannon to take the amphora from you? Are you stupid?!"

Seriously? Raguel had never learnt of something so reckless and she was related to Michael and Gabriel! She was aware that Julian wasn't exactly the safest of people; she wouldn't be surprised if some of her own recklessness had been influenced by him, but she could assure you that even she wouldn't allow something like this to happen. However, she guessed it was easier for one to trick their enemy into thinking they had achieved victory; Raguel would admit to doing that on more than one occasion—it still worried her that Alex had gained possession of the amphora, though, especially with that traitorous woman; she regretted not killing Noma, honestly.

Taking a deep breath, Raguel closed her eyes and attempted to calm her amped emotions with a couple of steady breaths. If she remained angry towards Julian, there was a bigger chance of her rebelling against his wishes and that would end with this entire city buried under unmoveable rubble—she didn't want to pursue the wish of sending Lyrae back into the ether, either; she was telling herself that he was a valuable ally, that his resources were needed to create the revolution she desperately wanted.

Reopening her eyes to face the younger, Raguel offered a lopsided smile with an edge of treachery; she apologised kindly, getting to her feet once again. She was capable of identifying the doubt riddling his expression—Lyrae was undoubtedly questioning her motives, hoping to see through her façade and decode the purposely confusing signals; she was allowed to be reassured by the handy tricks she had learnt during her lifetime, though. Still, she would feel comforted if the angelic half was subdued.

"We should catch-up over...uh, what kind of alcohol do you like?" Raguel asked, grabbing her coat from the windowsill and shrugging it on casually.

Julian retorted teasingly, "Do I have a choice in the situation?" Well, she had learnt that whenever Julian was being playful; someone was going to face something tragic.

Nevertheless, she returned the baiting with practised ease, "Of course you have a choice, but I do recall several incidents where I've retaliated coldly; so...I have final say."

There wasn't much of an argument given after that, because they both knew Raguel was more than capable of living up to her threats—even if she claimed to be teasing. Instead of countering the threat, Julian ended the conversation by taking her hand and guiding her from the room; she was beyond grateful for the cooperation, because she actually wanted this partnership to be fuelled by honesty and equality—it was the only balance she would accept at this minute, she realised.

 _[ ]_

Relaxed laughter filled the common room, interrupted every couple of minutes for the pair to share another drink, before the laughter resumed. Collapsed upon the sofa, Raguel found herself leaning against the leather arm with a glass of some alcoholic beverage in her hand, discussing ridiculous subjects with her old friend; she couldn't remember a time where she had laughed so hard, excluding the many hours she had spent enduring madness in Gabriel's aerie, of course.

"Raguel, I have a favour to ask of you..." Julian murmured once he had calmed, placing his glass upon the coffee table. "Alex released another human from the asylum."

Downing the remaining liquid in her glass, Raguel slammed the glass upon the table and covered her eyes, shaking her head. She groaned, "Why am I not bloody surprised?"

It wasn't surprising that Alex had managed to rescue someone from the asylum, but that didn't make it any less annoying; she was going to place the blame on Michael, because he seemed to be all for rescuing those who were destined to die; she could assure you that Raphael wasn't particularly happy about his decisions, either. However, it seemed that every piece of negativity seemed to burst into positivity and float away whenever Alex decided to take on his responsibilities; she had noticed he was temperamental about that, since she could quite literally list the amount of times Alex had abandoned his destiny in a fit of rage.

Why had God entrusted the fate of every human to such a misfit? It was a decision that didn't seem particularly wise, even for a tyrant.

Although he didn't seem very convinced by his own words, Julian comforted her with a simple reassurance, "Don't panic, love; I assure you the human isn't a threat to either of us, since his health isn't exactly... _perfect_ at the moment." It was always a good sign when one wasn't convinced by their own words, right? Surprisingly, he still managed to speak his request for her, "I need you to keep an eye on him for me, though."

Immediately, Raguel started to laugh at the request; she sometimes forgot that Julian didn't fear her in the way her family did, so it was easy for him demand from her. Rolling onto her side, Raguel buried her face into her arms, attempting to calm the mad laughter that shook her shoulders; she could now understand why she liked the Dyad. Once she had calmed her laughter into breathless giggling, she spoke, "You want me to babysit the freed human? What a bold request, mate!"

"You'll understand his mind, Raguel; you'll understand how he protects Alex from me! Please, I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate." Julian pleaded, making a good point in his argument—Julian wouldn't ask for such a small favour unless he was desperate, because he often had solutions to trivial matters; Raguel had to believe his desperate request for now, even if she was exceptionally reluctant about it. "He...he's made a fool of me, but his mind is genius; I guess you two could bond over that, right?"

Peeking from behind her arms, Raguel frowned at the younger, "I...I never meant to make you feel foolish, Julian."

"I know." He assured with a slight smile, getting to his feet slowly. He was quicker to return the subject to the freed human, though. He called, "You can bring him in, boys!"

Once the door had opened, Raguel found herself peering over the back of the sofa, curious about the human survivor. They weren't particularly gentle with him, shoving him through the doorway with enough strength to make the man flinch, clearly suffering from the rough treatment; it was almost enough to make her flinch, too. With the way her amusement plummeted into the darkness of hate, though, Raguel doubted she would be feeling merciful for the next couple of decades; she almost immediately recognised the foolish geezer as the former leader of Vega, Edward Riesen.

Without the pompous air of a leader, Raguel labelled him as something smaller than a bug; he was just an average man with basic feelings and weaknesses; he could die. Pushing herself up from the sofa, she smiled lopsidedly at the former general, relaxing into the casual stance of Vivian as her eyes narrowed into a dark scowl—she wanted to be as... _human_ as possible during this death; excluding her celestial abilities, because she wanted him dead before his heart gave out.

"Oh... _ouch_ , that sounds like it hurts!" She gestured to her chest vaguely, sniggering. "Where's your medication, hmm? Lost in the ruins of Vega?"

The very mention of Vega in ruins brought a hurried response from the elder, sending him tumbling to the ground in a heap of coughing. Laughter returned to her quickly, encouraging her to shoot forwards and connect her foot with his jaw; she relished the noise of him collapsing to his side, barely managing to catch his breath without the support of his medication or machinery. "Raguel, stop—!" Julian attempted to intervene, but a sharp glare kept him still. "Stop it; you'll regret this."

Shaking her head, Raguel started to wipe the overwhelming tears from her face, pointing at Edward. She snivelled, "His daughter almost took everything from me, Julian! Why does everyone else get to achieve revenge, but I'm constantly left to suffer without it?!"

Truthfully, Raguel hadn't committed revenge that had left her feeling peaceful; she had made people fear her, she had made people hate her, she had hollowed herself; it was really nothing without the blissful feeling of accomplishment, though. Underneath the many layers of blood on her hands, Raguel realised she didn't care about the lives of those she had taken, because their deaths had somehow been taken from her by someone; they hadn't suffered to the extent she had wanted them to.

Edward Riesen was the closest she had come to liberating herself; she couldn't take the emptiness any more, she wanted someone else to feel it for once; was that so wrong? Ignoring the small shred of doubt that resonated in her stomach, Raguel rubbed at her eyes to clear them, which _really_ took a claim for the most annoying task. Afterwards, she slipped her hand under her coat and tugged a dagger with a curved blade from one of her many pockets—she wouldn't insult her axes with such... _filth_.

Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, Raguel remarked, "I don't have anything personal against you, mate, but your daughter is quite a thorn in my side..."

"Claire won't care for my death, she banished me because of my secrets." Edward retorted hoarsely, glaring through tired eyes at the archangel. Despite her continued indifference towards mankind, their persistent defiance would never cease to amaze her; she was really beginning to understand Lucifer's unhealthy affection for their race. They had an inability to retreat and rebuild, which was quite admirable to her, as she had been trained to recognise a threat and eliminate it without consideration to health.

"We both know that isn't quite true, don't we?" A rhetorical question that was quickly forgotten by both of them. "Uh...excuse me, it seems my little brothers have arrived."

The confrontation was over before it had even started; Raguel slipped her dagger under her belt and stepped over the former general, before looking to the Dyad for permission; Julian didn't seem particularly happy with her, but he still waved his hand for the soldiers to move from her path. Nodding gratefully, Raguel left the room and headed down the corridor, wiping her face free from the hoax dampness; she didn't waste another second shooting off to another part of New Delphi, leaving nothing the hiss of the wind behind.

It seemed her revenge was being taken from her again, this time by those she had wanted to stay away from this city; she wasn't angry, though. No, no, no...she couldn't bring herself to be angered with an inevitable fate looming over Edward Riesen, she hadn't known a single human to resist the encouraging temptation of corruption—she was sure even Alex Lannon would collapse underneath the heavy weight of it, because it had been created by the one archangel nobody could ignore; Lucifer.

New Delphi would slowly taint the prideful human and reduce him to nothing, because that was what this city did to anyone who dared to stay for long; believe her, she knew.

 _[ ]_

With the marketplace chaotic from the infiltration of her little brothers, it was easy to navigate her way through the matching corridors without confrontation; it was easier to create a cover story for her disappearance, too. Without anyone to witness the horrendous crime she was about to commit against Julian, Raguel skipped down the final corridor as if mimicking the personality of an infant girl, clasping her hands loosely behind her back; she would have to thank the twins for their impeccable timing after this.

Without the presence of those who expected the sweetest from her, Raguel was capable of throwing that charade into the pile of many other abandoned games; she was bored. Perhaps she would play the game again during her stay in New Delphi, but she currently wanted to get something done efficiently and that was an impossible goal with the calmer part of her many personalities; she could assure you that her previous personality hadn't been the worst of them, ask anyone in her family; specifically the twins.

Once she had made it to the end of the corridor, Raguel was pleased to find traces of a struggle on the wall and floor; all of it was directed towards the largish door to her left. Humming excitedly, she pushed the door open and entered the neglected room, mumbling some native curses upon hearing the door slam.

As she made her way through the fenced area, she examined the rusted machinery and loose cables that littered the room, which was dimly lit by continuously flickering lights. On entering the room, an unnatural chill had attempted to overtake her vessel, but it had disappeared a few seconds later; Raguel had chalked it up to the ominous presence that lingered over this city in general, but some part of her mind blamed it on Julian for not paying better attention to his city and she definitely preferred that accusation.

"Good evening!" She called out to those in the room, waving cheerily; she wasn't surprised to be greeted with a fearful—but muffled—whimper and an irritated sigh.

Excluding her own presence, there were two other people in the room and they were both expendable to her, but she needed them for the minute; it'd be difficult to proceed with her plan without at least some information on her enemies, after all. In the centre of the room, there was an old table that was coated with layers of dust and would soon be stained with the blood of the lad sitting at said table; she had shrugged her shoulders at the thought of losing another piece of the human race, disinterested in the subject. Standing behind the boy was the red haired angel she had been hating for several millennia, the one she had sold out to Julian for his trust; she would live up to that deal today.

Under the impression that the betrayal was a façade, Ementior had kept an eye on the human boy whilst Raguel had dealt with her other priorities, but she was beginning to lose purpose to the archangel; she could hear the clock beginning to count down towards the death of the poor higher angel, though she couldn't tell if it would be performed by Julian or her archangel superior—hell, perhaps the idiot would off herself! It was an event that she couldn't wait to experience, _tick-tock_.

Ementior snapped angrily, "You're three and a half minutes late, dear! We could have been caught."

Dismissing the redhead with a careless wave of her hand, Raguel answered flippantly, "Who cares, who cares? Julian doesn't use these rooms very often, who cares if I'm late?"

Although she was only a couple of minutes late, Raguel could tell that her lateness irked Ementior; she wasn't here to deal with the pet peeves of someone unimportant, though! She was here to get answers from someone who had somehow gained information on an object that she had been searching for since the start of this bloody war, and she wasn't particularly worried about the means she used to get this information out of the kid; nobody could do a thing to stop her and if the lad escaped, he wouldn't get very far.

Crossing over to the table, Raguel plucked a thin piece of metal from the ground; it was small enough to find in her pocket, but thick enough for rust and infectious germs to collect in large masses, and she could assure you that it would be a lasting pain if someone harmed you with it. She stood across from the human boy with the piece pinched between her index finger and thumb, lips stretching slowly into a lopsided smile.

"Can we have a little chat, kid?" She questioned sweetly, tilting her head slightly. "Though, I guess you don't really have a choice in the matter."

"How're you gonna have a conversation with someone who won't reply?" It wasn't surprising that the kid had some fire in his system, but it wouldn't do him much good here; she would extinguish the flame quickly and he would be left with nothing to support his wishes to rebel. However, she would allow the kid to have his way for a couple of seconds, because it was always entertaining to watch the most confident crumble without time to compose themselves; she had repeated this procedure so many times, Raguel had lost faith in finding someone who could withstand the pressure for longer than five minutes.

"Ah! You make a great point, kid." Raguel praised, jamming the piece of metal through his hand with a single strike of her hand, relishing in the pained screech that left him. Laughing above the desperate attempts to remove the piece from his hand, she watched as he only made it worse for himself; every attempt to pull the metal from his hand only rubbed more bacteria into his wound, every failed attempt would only drive the metal further into his hand, which was effectively pinned to the table in a pool of dark blood. "However, I've learnt that humans tend to respond better under pressure; especially children or teenagers."

Wailing profanities as he hit the table, the boy screamed at her, "You're exactly like Julian! You trick someone into thinking they're safe and then pull something like this."

"You know 'Lian?" Raguel cried enthusiastically, overjoyed that someone knew the darker side to her friend. She grinned, "Did he finally resort to poisoning his enemies?"

The kid was quick to retort that Julian was the very personification of poison, which entertained the archangel immensely; they had a lot to cover and she could tell they were going to have a brilliant conversation with such fiery opinions of each other...and Julian. She would admit that she was excited to see where this conversation would lead her, though she kept reminding herself that she was here because of an object that was far too precious to be placed into the wrong hands; she had been searching for it since the beginning of the war and she had finally found someone who claimed to have information on it—she couldn't allow herself to be distracted by the humorous side to the subject.

Taking a seat upon a nearby crate, Raguel stared at the human boy expectantly, drumming her fingers against the edge of the crate; his determination to remain quiet was already beginning to become an agitating aspiration, and they hadn't even started the interrogation yet. She stated, "A little bird told me that you have information on an object that I've seemed to misplaced; it's rather difficult to interrogate a corpse, so please reconsider your silence if you don't want to experience a gruesome fate."

Her blatant threat seemed to encourage speech from the lad, who seemed to be struggling to believe that she was the higher angel that had spared him in the marketplace. Admittedly, it had taken longer than expected for Raguel to identify him as that same boy, but it had become quite obvious after how betrayed he had looked after discovering her identity—she would have told you that she felt a tad bit guilty for the lad, but she would have been lying straight to your face if she had done that.

He swallowed the anxiety and straightened up in his chair, "What do you want to know?"

 _Bingo,_ she thought.

* * *

 **A/N: It's December, which means this year is almost over and I can definitely sense the epilogue of this story coming, too! My heart is shattering.**

 **Previously, this chapter chalked up to about 8,000+ words because I just couldn't stop writing, oops. I decided to split the chapter up into two parts, because I would never get this story updated if I just kept writing and writing, haha.**

 **So, I just have to finish writing the middle & end of the next chapter and it'll hopefully be up soon... _hopefully_. **

**Ementior is back, whoo! I've been celebrating her return for these two chapters, because she's just too perfect to sweep under the rug without a proper farewell to her character. Do you have any thoughts for her cooperation with Raguel, who has definitely taken a new leaf in this chapter?**

 **Ahem, Riesen has finally started paying the price for pulling that stupid stunt of acceptance in season two, and I have no regrets for that brief introduction. Julian is certainly beginning to push his luck with the archangel, but I'd like to think of it as their way of showing an affection that they still have for each other, even if the Dyad will probably be slapped in the next chapter. (Go Ementior!)**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter; reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured. x**


	12. Chapter Eleven

~ I don't own Dominion. ~

 **Jailbird.**

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Chapter Eleven.

If someone were to look at the boy now, they wouldn't recognise that he was human beneath the broken appendages and limbs, carved skin and gaping wounds. If his mother were to see him, she would have to gain approval from the guarding angel that stood outside of the repulsive smelling room, and she would question what her boy every did to deserve such an aggressive death. Why couldn't he have just fallen asleep? Why hadn't he given the information to the aloof archangel? Why had it been her little boy, too? Thankfully, there was no hysterical mother to disturb Raguel from accepting the fate she had just sealed; nothing had prepared her for the guilt that overwhelmed her tonight.

She hadn't been close to the human in her previous personality, so the negative reaction could only be chalked up to the small part of humanity in her; Vivian. Repeatedly, she had told herself that she needed to break that half of her until there was nothing left, but she just couldn't bring herself to destroy the person that had gotten her so far in life; the person who had helped her survive in New Orleans, the person who had convinced Julian that killing her was pointless, the person who reminded her how it felt to hurt.

With her bloodstained hand clasped tightly over her mouth and the other rigidly clutching her vest, Raguel stood with her eyes focusing unsteadily on the body, though her vision was obscured due to the mute tears that rolled over her cheeks and down her knuckles; little dots of water started to litter the cold floor. Silently struggling for self-control, Raguel muffled her desperate sobs as her human half mourned the tragic death, wordlessly apologising to the pained human; destroying her seemed like the merciful option now.

Despite the painful response to the death, it wasn't one of the many pointless fates she had caused; Raguel had actually gained something out of this—the location of her sword. See, she had buried it somewhere outside of America once she had fled from Heaven, refusing to offer her genuine allegiance to anyone who asked for it; she had halted every alliance by making such a rash decision, which had left her utterly alone in the incredibly foreign land of Earth. After she had discovered how to travel without wings, she had journeyed to the city titled New Orleans, where she had proceeded to create the character of Vivian; where she had created the best few years of her life.

Once she had started seeing through the cracks of her charade, though, she had started to piece together the missing memories until it had grown too much for the human half. Raguel had been locked away inside her own mind, only breaking free occasionally; she had lost track of the amount of times she had dislocated the shoulder of some V-1 goons, or the amount of times she had found herself hiding from soldiers or even Michael; she had grown to become a reliable source of power to Vivian and they had created a relationship that resembled one of a Dyad—only their bond was a lot more unstable, even when they had learnt to work in harmony.

Raguel had been forced to sacrifice so much for the human—memories, control and power...her wings. She had eventually forgotten the location of her sword, too. After losing such valuable information, Raguel had fallen into something of a dark period; she had influenced Vivian to become isolated from those in Vega, convincing the naive half that they were simply taking a break from the festivities, when she had actually been manipulating her celestial roots back into place; it had been a long process that had left a traumatised Vivian shrieking for mercy from the archangel—she could assure you that she didn't want to experience those nights again.

Taking a large breath of air, Raguel gasped as if brought from beneath water; she should really start heading back or those who sided with Julian would grow suspicious, which would serve as only another hindrance in her attempts to remain affectionate within the ever cautious eyes of the Dyad. It was a difficult task that she had chosen due to her past intimacy with the strategist, one that she wouldn't even attempt to challenge with another soul; she didn't want to dwell on the subject, though.

Swivelling on her heel, Raguel abandoned the vile room with an unnatural reluctance to her step, meeting Ementior in the corridor just like she had promised.

"Where will you journey after this battle?" The redhead enquired as she joined the archangel in the centre of the corridor. "Nowhere infested with filth, I hope?"

"Nowhere you would want to venture, Ementior." Raguel answered teasingly, shaking her head. "You would do better as a valuable spy in one of the cities, trust me."

Despite her light-hearted tone, Raguel was dead serious about Ementior being unfit to travel with her; she would rather take someone more able, someone with knowledge on the city that she had hidden her sword within. She would seek out Michael or Gabriel for the trip, because it had been them who had warned her away from the country that had once stood mighty against that of the United States and many other countries—which made it the perfect place for the sword of an archangel to rest.

After she had parted with New Delphi, Raguel would begin to journey into the United Kingdom; a country that had fallen to her brethren early in the war, but remained plagued by the lowest of the low; she had started hearing whispers that some higher angels had fled to the abandoned country to seek neutrality, and that they weren't particularly acceptive of those from the war; especially those that held significance to the tide of it, such as her family. However, she needed to explore the ruins of Cardiff, Wales; or she would remain traitorous for the rest of this ridiculous war.

"Ementior, have you heard anything within the city?" Raguel questioned, pushing her hair back from her face. She added, "Your eyes seem distant; what's wrong?"

"Julian has captured your brothers with the help of Alex Lannon." Ementior stated softly, seemingly hesitant to inform the archangel of this inevitable turn in events.

Allowing her eyelids to fall shut, Raguel took a deep breath to calm her ever growing rage towards the fools she bothered with; she had expected it from Julian, who had claimed the heads of her entire family far back in the Extermination War, but she was infuriated to know Alex would act upon a broken heart. She could understand his pain, perhaps more than he could understand it himself, but she could also state that those actions were ones Alex would never truly forget; neither would Michael or Gabriel.

Through gritted teeth, Raguel bothered Ementior with another favour, "Apologies for my continued use of you, but I have one last favour."

"No apology is needed; I'm simply pleased you're returning to your senses, archangel." Ementior answered, moving to stand out of her way. "What would you have me do?"

 _[ ]_

Electricity crackled from the thin piece of wire that tightened around the neck of Gabriel, immobilising the archangel that threateningly clung to the proclaimed Chosen One. Pained moans slipped from the captured archangel on the floor, who desperately attempted to keep his body still beneath the empyrean steel net adorned with metal hooks that dug into his skin mercilessly; it was an agonising task to remain tucked away behind shadowed crates, awaiting an opportunity to intervene with her trickery.

"Put him down." Julian ordered her brother, earning a furious growl from the archangel. He added sweetly, " _Gently_."

Watching through a gap between crates, Raguel hummed softly to herself; she would admit to feeling displeased with Julian for working with Alex, because the child deserved nothing short of a fate worse than the one Lucifer had been subjected to. However, she halted her hatred to breathe a heavy sigh of relief once Gabriel had dropped the human, who scurried away from the feet of both Julian and Gabriel; the latter seemed to had been squeezing the life from Alex, as the boy cleared his throat whilst gulping down air; Michael seemed to have escaped his previous worries, only to create new ones that included the men that stood before him.

"Good work, Alex; looks like you and I make a pretty good team." Julian praised with a mischievous smile, his eyes darkening with those of a Dyad.

"What are you waiting for? Kill him; kill Gabriel now!" Alex cried, attempting to get to his feet in his weakened state.

Holding up a hand to silence the shouting boy, Julian hissed, "Patience, Alex, patience." He crossed the room leisurely, sighing softly as he picked up a metal stool; he placed it near the centre of the room, where he could overlook those who were in presence and where he could sit between both Michael and Gabriel. Once he was seated, Julian looked from Gabriel to Michael and asked, "What do you think of this new body of mine, then? 'S all right, isn't it? Think it suits me?"

Silence was his only answer, but something that resembled horror struck through Raguel; she sometimes would forget the identity of the angel half that resided inside of Julian, as they seemed like completely different people without the axes that mirrored her own or the red cloak that identified him as a soldier for one of the archangels. Forcing herself to remain knelt behind the crates, Raguel tilted her head to look at the redhead that stood behind a column mere steps away from her; she was beaten within an inch of her life, barely managing to meet her panicked eyes with reassuring ones, and Raguel felt a twinge of guilt towards her plan of deception.

Gabriel's struggling brought her eyes back to the scene before her, closely followed by Julian's laughter. He smiled, "You don't recognise me, do you? Come on, Michael, think!"

Raguel clasped her hands tightly together, shaking her head; she couldn't make herself think of the outcome to this situation. _Stop this nonsense,_ she pleaded mentally. _Please!_

When Michael gave no response to the mockery, Julian sighed exasperatedly and said, "All right! I'll give you a clue; last time you saw me, we burned two cities to the ground...but you looked down on my methods." He shifted his gaze to Michael, who became quieter than usual as he remembered his past decision.

"Lyrae..." He breathed eventually, voice hardly holding any strength; mirroring his body. Julian started to snigger at the unveil of his identity, although it slowly trailed off.

"You banished me to the outer sphere..." Julian stated as he got to his feet, gaze lifting upwards to look at the ceiling. "...For taking joy..." He crossed over to Michael's side, seemingly attempting to conceal many impulses; laughter and screaming seemed to reflect the most. He crouched down to look at Michael, "...In God's punishment."

She had heard this rant many times before; she had heard Michael vent about it during the night after the event, she had heard Julian raving about it during the Extermination War. It was a subject that she had grown accustomed to over the decades, but she wouldn't deny the discomfort that shook her body right now; perhaps it was because she hadn't experienced them together in decades, perhaps it was because she held both of them close to her heart and refused to take sides in their quarrel—whatever the reason, the tension was enough to keep her mute for the minute.

"But you were my inspiration, Michael, I learned it all from _you_." Julian seemed to be determined to draw this out—he seemed to want to rub salt into the reopening wounds.

"I was wrong..." Michael slurred, tilting his head lazily to look at the younger. "I know that now."

"It's too late now, you can't escape the sins of _your_ past and you too must be punished." Julian answered immediately, nodding his head. Before Julian could continue this game, Gabriel broke the wire around his neck into two pieces, throwing them to the ground and turning to kill the soldiers that had caught him; his sudden movement shocked life into both Julian and Raguel, who had both been far too focused on Michael to consider what Gabriel had been plotting.

Removing her attention momentarily from the drama, Raguel signalled for Ementior to begin her half of the plan; she would attempt to kill Julian to... _balance_ the war again. Limping from behind the column she hid behind, Ementior crossed into the fight with the lies of her superior securely closed around her mind, carrying one of the two axes Raguel often carried on her persona; it added to the realism of her tale of being overpowered by the redhead on her way to the marketplace, and she continued to add to that realism by taking the dagger on her belt and littering her limbs with varying cuts and scratches.

Carefully, she smudged her face with the fresh blood until she was positively gagging from the stench and texture; Vivian hadn't been fond of blood, and it seemed to have transferred when Raguel had regained control over her body. As she bloodied her face and neck, Raguel wondered what Julian was going through at the moment; he had momentarily lost control over the twins, but he had recaptured one of them in a heartbeat and the other had escaped in the panic; Raguel would be losing her mind.

"Find Michael!" Julian ordered furiously over the chaos, eyes wandering to look over the startled crowd until they landed upon the bruised face of Ementior, framed by redness. Cautiously, Julian held one hand up to still the movement of his men and focused his attention upon the familiar axe, "You must be Ementior."

"What did she tell you about me?" Ementior snapped hoarsely, gesturing vaguely with the axe. "The owner of this axe; the one you would do anything to protect. Tell me!"

"Nothing important enough to remember." Julian answered with a slight shrug of his shoulders, seemingly unaware of his mistake to dismiss Ementior. He continued offhandedly, "Speaking of Raguel, where is my favourite homicidal maniac? I haven't seen her since she humiliated Riesen in the common room; I'm quite worried about her."

Ementior mimicked the dismissive shrug, a sickly sweet smile curving her lips as she explained, "She's probably dead by now; probably bled out in some corridor."

Gabriel mocked from his spot on the ground, "Someone without swordsmanship and physical strength defeated _my_ sister in combat? I've heard better lies from Michael."

"Although it pains me to say this; Gabriel makes a fair point." Julian reluctantly agreed, taking a couple of steps towards the redhead. "Where's her body, Ementior?"

"You're both so touchingly concerned for her!" Ementior cooed, giggling like the madwoman Lucifer had tried to cure. "Don't worry, my dears, you'll both find her in Purgatory."

As the tension snapped into two pieces, the situation escalated from idle threats to aggressive actions; Raguel was once again shocked into life by the abrupt violence. Straightening up to her feet, Raguel plucked a smaller knife from her boot and took the merciless attack as her cue to intervene, putting an effort into making herself seem pained by the self-inflicted injuries as she limped down the dark corridor. Finally, she could complete the order her father had given to her decades ago; she was excited to finally be rid of anything to do with either of them, she could finally live without worrying over Alex.

...Wait, _Alex_. Pausing in her stride momentarily, she lifted her gaze to focus upon the redhead that had plagued her mind for too many years; their eyes met almost immediately and there was something dark in those mischievous eyes that Raguel had grown to loathe. Shaking her head, Raguel fiddled with the knife between her fingers, watching the fight escalate until she had a perfect shot to injure Ementior; she only had to get Julian out of the way without alerting Ementior of which direction to go, too.

Luckily, she wasn't forced to voice the order she desperately wanted to give to the distressed Dyad; he managed to escape the higher angel by dodging sidewards, leaving her open to an attack from the shadows. Raguel didn't waste precious time by considering the situation, and simply took the tip of the knife between her fingers; she threw it without thinking of the consequences it could have for her plan, only thinking of what Ementior would have done to those closest to her—a low thud signalled the collapse of the redhead.

Slowly, Raguel started to exit the darkness of the corridor and focused her attention upon Alex; she was pleased to see he hadn't come to harm under the hands of Ementior, because she was positive Michael would never forgive her if she told him that her old friend had injured Alex due to a feud between them. Moving her attention to the red haired traitor that she had sworn to Purgatory, Raguel loomed over her final attachment to her father with an expression that would rival the boom of thunder, abandoning any guilt she had previously had for her underlying motives to double-cross Ementior.

Although her feelings for Alex were questionable, the little brat was undoubtedly family to her now; he was the alleged Chosen One—he was practically a celestial being, specifically one that resembled the blood that bonded her ridiculous family together. Regardless of their quarrels, Raguel could confirm that her family would always protect one another, and they would declare war upon anyone who even _attempted_ to harm their family; Ementior would have attacked Alex upon being cornered, just like a cornered beast. Well, Raguel could assure you that Ementior would be cowering from similar beasts within Purgatory, and she would mirror the appearance of a mouse there.

Seizing Ementior from her spot on the floor, Raguel crossed the room with the redhead in tow, ignoring the aggressive kicking and desperate pleas to both Gabriel and Julian. Neither of them could stop their ill-tempered elder as she expressed her distaste for the situation, throwing Ementior roughly into the column that shadowed the soldiers guarding her captured little brother, prompting dust to collapse from the ceiling; the abuse didn't stop there, though.

Once it started, those standing aside could only count the minutes that Ementior experienced the horrendous torture she deserved; five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes. Blood poured from the reopened injuries of both women, bones were broken to an irremediable point for the redhead, but it all came down to the most important part; her wings. Losing one's wings was like exiling an angel from both Heaven and Earth, there was no returning once the beautiful limbs were removed from one's vessel; it was a punishment that Raguel had only been forced to execute four times—today would make it five, the only difference was that she wasn't being ordered to complete the task.

"Mercy, please!" Ementior screamed desperately, thrashing against the strong hold that pinned her directly to the column. "Archangel, please; show mercy!"

"Who was it that told me mercy doesn't get you anywhere?" A rhetorical question that she answered immediately, "Ah! I remember— _you did_."

Although it pained him to move, Gabriel pushed himself up from the ground; until there was enough space for him to raise his voice without it breaking. "Enough of this, sister!" He bellowed over the frantic struggling—he had never been particularly fond of Ementior, as she had been something of a female _Lyrae_ , but not even she deserved such a cruel punishment to finish the final order of God. Ementior had been sentenced to Purgatory, nothing more and nothing less. "What would father say if he could see you now?"

"Father is _gone_ , little brother!" Raguel responded with equal volume to her voice, which brought both sadness and fear to the younger; but he wouldn't give up easily.

"Why have you given up so easily? You could summon the soul of Lucifer; you could bring our father back; you could have done that from the beginning of this blasted war." Gabriel answered, though he lowered his tone in an attempt to calm his sister; perhaps she would be more open to discussion if she didn't feel verbally attacked by the one brother she had never completely trusted since the end of The Flood. He continued soothingly, "Why haven't you attempted to do so?"

Surprisingly, the change in tone worked and she thawed almost immediately. She muttered, "Because I don't wanna be locked in Heaven again; I wanna stay here without dad." Well, that hadn't been an answer that anyone in the room had been expecting—though, it certainly surprised Gabriel the most, as his sister had never spoken of their father in such a casual tone. It seemed she was serious, then. "Ementior is the last attachment I have to him; she could escape Purgatory with her wings, brother."

"Lucifer has slept within Purgatory for many decades, sister; I don't believe such filth could break the chains of that prison." Gabriel replied reassuringly, prompting a slight nod. "Hasn't Julian allowed you much sleep since you arrived? You seem slow to comprehend that Ementior will never survive Purgatory, wings or not."

Savouring the sweet laugh he drew from his sister, Gabriel smiled at the warmth that engulfed the negativity within him; he had waited decades to hear his sister laugh again, because she had such a positivity within her that had gifted her with many admirers in the past. It had been disappointing to watch such a positive glow be reduced to nothing, and it had been even sadder to watch the back of his sister after she planted an affectionate kiss upon his forehead and fell from Heaven; Gabriel could still feel the dampness on his face as he pleaded with their father to free the auburn—he had definitely been the saddest when Raguel hadn't returned to Heaven.

Once Ementior was branded with the mark of Purgatory, she was allowed to rest until Raguel decided to send her packing. The archangel mumbled, "Pray Lucifer isn't vengeful." And carefully turned upon her heel to focus on the bewildered Dyad, who brought a small smile to her face almost immediately, "You look stupid, butterfly."

Beneath the bewilderment, there was something that resembled a burning fuse; one that was almost gone due to the confusing events he happened to be witnessing today. Admittedly, Raguel was resisting the urge to apologise and fess up to her deception, because it was painful to hear his racing heartbeat behind the confusion; it was even more difficult to know that she was most likely adding to the pressuring contrast of black and white. She knew that Julian had sworn vengeance against all higher angels, but she also knew how it difficult was to harm someone who wore the face of someone precious to you; believe it or not, she had almost gotten herself killed for the exact same reason.

Taking a few steps closer to the other, Raguel kept herself aware of those around her and the escape routes that were closest to her; she wouldn't be caught in one of those nets, because she could guarantee that they resembled the dust Noah had once carried upon his persona—she wouldn't go through that sense of vulnerability again, she _couldn't_ go through that powerless immobility again. When she deemed herself close enough to Julian, she took his hands within her own and spoke again, "You okay?"

Entwining their fingers together, Julian seemed focused upon the bloodstains that marred both her hands and wrists, which she should have realised was a simple distraction to execute another part of his manipulating hatred towards her family. Fortunately for her, he hadn't thought to remove Gabriel from the room to keep his own betrayal secret, and she found herself returning her attention to the urgent shouting of her little brother—she found herself yanking one hand free to halt the blade of her very own weapon; she could have screamed at the searing pain that dug into the palm of her hand, but she settled for using the adrenaline rush to her advantage.

Sliding her injured hand along the blade, Raguel freed the weapon from the hold of the goon and reclaimed it as her own; it felt amazing to halve someone's face into a bloodied mess with the very same weapon they had wanted to subdue her with. Without missing a beat, Raguel freed her captured hand by slamming Julian into the wall behind him, earning herself a pained groan as he sagged to the floor in an attempt to gather his strength again; she evaded the second thug to charge her, pleased when she heard the thud of two bodies colliding with another string of groans; that would keep Julian busy for the minutes it took to flee the room.

"...Run, sister..." Gabriel rasped urgently, squirming in the net that he had been caught in. "Retrieve Michael and ru—" He was interrupted by a sharp blow to his side, and Raguel hated feeling powerless to stop the continued abuse to her little brother; but she needed to retreat to rethink her entire plan—and she needed to feel safe to do so. Sparing one final look to her brother, Raguel didn't waste time challenging another brute and raced towards the nearest escape route, telling herself that she'd come back for Gabriel; telling herself that she wouldn't allow such monstrosities to keep her brother held hostage. Between the rush of the fight, Raguel heard something that made her falter, "Forgive me."

Thankfully, it seemed some traitors could have a change of heart in their final moments, as she was encouraged to keep moving when the closest thug collapsed to the ground without one important organ in his chest; his heart. Looming over the corpse with that very same organ in her hand was Ementior, who was seemingly defying the doors of Purgatory with every ounce of her remaining life, and she still managed to joke in such a situation. "Your manners are absolutely appalling, my loves."

And the grand escape continued smoothly for the next ten minutes or so; Raguel managed to slip from beneath their radar, thanks to a woman who should detest her existence, and she would have been on the other side of New Delphi if it hadn't been for the doubtful feelings that crossed her path. Once again hiding within the shadows, Raguel sat with her legs tucked tightly to her chest and her face buried within her hands; she would have started screaming and crying if it weren't for the threat of death hanging over her head.

Why had Vivian fallen in love with someone so manipulative; so abusive? Raguel could see the reason for attraction, but she had never understood where the _love_ came into it. She remembered the times where Vivian unconsciously handed her the reigns, where she had reluctantly faked her identity and spared the man; she should have killed him that night in the diner, she should have left the bastard immediately after the door had been broken by those lower angels—but she had always hated owing sociopaths.

Before she could delve into the depressing darkness of her mind, she was pulled to her feet and supported by bodies on either side of her; she identified them as Noma and Alex. With the synchronised march of two soldiers echoing beneath her, Raguel was lulled into a pained stupor and found herself leaning heavily against Alex, who grunted at the added weight from the archangel; they were both vaguely aware of the entertained sniggering from the shorter of the trio, Noma. Raguel hissed breathlessly, "You two are suicidal..."

"And you're heavy." Alex quipped, earning himself a sharp pinch to the shoulder from the elder; he chuckled softly at the foreign playfulness. "You need to leave this area, too."

"Break your alliance with Julian, Alex; he'll manipulate and kill you." Raguel stated drowsily, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You...you need to leave New Delphi, kid..."

As her eyelids started to droop with unexplainable fatigue, the responses from both of her saviours became slurred and jumbled; as if they were speaking in a foreign language. Her limbs became weaker until she was slipping towards the ground and her knees were banging harshly into the concrete floor—the entirety of her head mirrored the action, and she couldn't fathom why she was feeling so weak against the self-inflicted pain. If it wasn't for Alex pushing her onto her back, shouting for her to keep consciousness, perhaps she wouldn't have heard the vital discovery that Noma made almost immediately; she had been drugged, _poisoned_.

They believed it had been injected into her system when she had caught the blade of her axe; they believed Julian had laced it with a poison strong enough to immobilise an archangel within mere minutes, or even seconds. She wanted to protest, she wanted to scream and thrash, she wanted to look Julian in the eye as she took from him the one shot at revenge he had been given in centuries; she wanted to watch the hope fade from his eyes as he was faced with the archangels that he had trapped within New Delphi.

That was impossible, though—because everything Vivian had felt for Julian, everything that Raguel questioned or laughed at, was dominating her every sense; she was beginning to believe that she actually had feelings for the abomination...that she actually loved and cared for the Dyad in a similar fashion to Vivian. She felt ridiculous for even beginning to think of the possibility, but they were all that powered her mind as she slipped into the lulling darkness that would hopefully keep her unaware; she didn't want to imagine the torture Julian had planned for her when she was conscious, let alone when she was unconscious and completely submissive to his sadism.

Before she completely yielded to the thought of sleep, Raguel was faced with someone she had forgotten; someone who could once calm her tears, but now only brought them. Allowing her body to completely relax, Raguel wondered if the almost stranger would grant her fortune within the next few hours; she guessed only time would tell, though.

Once her eyes slipped shut, the last thing she heard was Alex's scream, "Wake up!"

* * *

 **A/N: I'm beginning to doubt my ability to keep promises, I swear.**

 **Anyhow, this is the chapter that has about fifty different drafts because I couldn't decide how I wanted to end it; I'm pretty pleased with how I ended it, especially since I now have the perfect draft to build upon for the next chapter...hehe. However, that didn't make it any less difficult to write that betrayal between Julian and Raguel, even though I knew it would have had to happen sooner or later; what're your thoughts on the torture Julian has planned?**

 **Aw, Raguel has started to show an affectionate side towards Alex, I'm really beginning to love their bond right now! Perhaps I'll add some cute sibling-y lines and scenes between them in the next chapter or two, because I'd really love to see where their relationship goes before the end of New Delphi. c:**

 **I apologise if this chapter seems a bit rushed or short, but I wanted to create an atmosphere that was both confusing and panicked, if that makes any sense. Also, this chapter was meant to be part of the previous chapter, but I decided to split it because I literally never would have updated this story if I had continued writing. Moving on from that, though, w** **ho do you think Raguel saw before she passed out? What're your opinions on the betrayal in general?**

 **Before I can get carried away with my curious questions, though, I'd like to wish anyone reading this a merry Christmas and a happy New Year! Hopefully, you've had an amazing and safe day with your loved ones, because I've been sat in my bedroom writing this chapter for most of the day; consider it my somewhat on time gift to you! ...I'm not a Christmas person, okay? Don't judge me, hehe.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter; reviews are appreciated, but don't feel pressured. x**


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